AHEfBfflHflOOK  COMPANY 


DCATIOI 


'Curfew    must   not   ring    to-night."      (See   page    2O9.) 


\-SL 


BARNES'     NEW     NATIONAL     READERS 


NEW 


NATIONAL 


FIFTH  EEADEE 


J. 


JOHN  SFPRELL 

Qoll  6-  Mechanical  Engineer. 


AiVtBRICAN    BOOK    CONIPANY 


Copyright,  1884,  by  A.  S.  BARNES  &>  CO. 


printeb 
H.  S.  JSarncs  &  Company 
flew  &orh,  Tfl.  S.  H. 


GIFT 


•894 


With  the  publication  of  this  book,  our  series  of 
readers  designed  for  the  use  of  graded  and  ungraded 
schools,  is  completed. 

Concerning  the  simplicity  and  careful  gradation 
of  the  letter-press,  a  word  of  explanation  is  neces- 
sary. 

It  is  evident,  even  to  the  casual  observer,  that 
pupils  terminate  their  school  life  at  a  much  earlier 
age  now  than  ever  before. 

This  is  due,  in  part,  to— 

1.— Better  methods  of  instruction,  which  advance 
pupils  more  rapidly  toward  the  completion  of 
their  course  of  study. 

2.  — A.  feverish  desire  on  the  part  of  the  young  to 
commence  their  life-work 

3. — The  humble  circumstances  of  many  parents, 
who,  consequently,  need  the  assistance  of  their 
children  in  the  every-day  affairs  of  life,  and 
take  them  from  school  by  the  time  they  have 
finished  the  third  reader. 

The  average  age  at  which  most  pupils  complete 
the  course  of  study  in  our  public  schools  has  been 

378 


6  FIFTH    READER. 

ascertained  to  "be  about  thirteen  and  a  half  years. 
From  this  it  is  evident  that  many  can  not  be  more 
than  ten  years  old. 

How  utterly  impossible  it  is  for  pupils  of  such 
an  immature  age  to  understand  or  comprehend  the 
masterpieces  of  our  literature,  can  be  realized  only 
by  those  teachers  who  have  exhausted  every  expe- 
dient to  accomplish  such  a  result. 

It  is  needless,  perhaps,  to  say  that  the  authors 
of  this  series  of  readers,  who  have  had  many  years' 
experience  in  the  school-room,  have  kept  this  fact 
constantly  in  mind ;  and  they  confidently  believe 
that  the  New  National  Series  will  be  found  more 
pleasing,  interesting,  and  intelligible  to  young  minds 
than  any  others  ever  issued. 

If  teachers  of  High  Schools,  Seminaries,  and 
Academies  do  not  find  that  abstruse  and  difficult 
kind  of  literature  which  they  desire  for  the  most 
advanced  pupils,  let  them  await  the  appearance  of 
"Barnes'  Collegiate  Header  and  Speaker,"  which  is  in 
preparation  and  will  be  issued  shortly. 

That  these  readers  may  lighten  the  labors  of  the 
teaching  fraternity  every-where,  and  add  to  the 
pupil's  interest  and  pleasure  during  many  hours 
of  hard  study,  is  the  fervent  wish  of 

THE    AUTHORS. 


LESSONS     IN     PROSE. 

LESSON  PAGE 

1. — SOLDIER  FRITZ  (I)  From  the  German  by  J.  C.  Pickard.  33 

2.— SOLDIER  FRITZ  (II)          "            "         «          "          "  38 

4. — MALIBRAN  AND  THE  YOUNG  MUSICIAN 44 

5. — ANECDOTES   ABOUT  ANTS  (I)      .     .     Sir  John  Lubbock.  49 

6. — ANECDOTES   ABOUT  ANTS  (II) ..."             "  53 

8. — BENJAMIN  WEST  (I)     ....    Nathaniel  Hawthorne,.  60 

9.—  BENJAMIN  WEST  (II)     ....          "                 "  64 

11. — MOTHER  NATURE'S  FAIRIES  ....    Mary  W.  Allen.  71 

12. — BEETHOVEN'S  MOONLIGHT  SONATA 77 

14-— ELEPHANT  HUNTING  IN  AFRICA  (I)     Sir  S.  W.  Baker.  84 

15. — ELEPHANT  HUNTING  IN  AFRICA  (II)         "             "  89 

17.  —BAMBOO  (I) A.  R.    Wallace.  96 

18.—  BAMBOO  (II) "           "  100 

20.—  AN  ICEBERG R.  H.  Dana,  Jr.  106 

21. — THE  EMPEROR'S  NEW  CLOTHES  .     .  Hans  C.  Andersen.  109 

23.—  PAPER 115 

24. — THE  SOLDIER'S  REPRIEVE           Mrs.  R.  D.   0.  Robbins.  120 


8  FIFTH     READER. 

LESSON  PAGE 

26. — BEE  HUNTERS A.  R.  Wallace.  128 

27. — THE  COAST  OP  NORWAY     .     .     .     .  Harriet  Martineau.  132 

"29. — LAND  AND  SEA-BREEZES M.  F.  Maury.  140 

30. — THE  FIRST  NIGHT  AT  SCHOOL  .  .  Thomas  Hughes.  144 
32. — THE  SAGACITY  OF  THE  SPIDER.  .  .  Oliver  Goldsmith.  152 

33. — A  GOOD  INVESTMENT Freeman  Hunt.  158 

35. — MRS.  CAUDLE'S  UMBRELLA  LECTURE  .  Douglas  Jerr old.  166 
36. — THE  AMERICAN  FLAG  .  .  .  Henry  Ward  Beecher.  170 

38. — THE  HURRICANE John  J.  Audubon.  175 

39. — ls  A  TURTLE  A  FISH? Alexander  Hunter.   180 

41. — STANLEY'S  SEARCH  FOR  LIVINGSTONE  .  Edward  King.  187 
42. — TYPHOONS  AND  WATER-SPOUTS  .  .  Philip  H.  Gosse.  193 

44- — ALADDIN'S  CAVE Benjamiji  F.  Taylor.   201 

45.— AN  EXPLOIT  OF  SIR  WILLIAM  WALLACE.  Sir  W.  Scott,  205 
47. — NICHOLAS  NICKLEBY  LEAVING  SCHOOL.  Charles  Dickens.  212 

48.—  MARK  TWAIN'S  WATCH S.  L.    Clemens.  219 

50. — AN  INCIDENT  IN  THE  LIFE  OF  SIR  WALTER  KALEIGH  (I)  227 
51. — AN  INCIDENT  IN  THE  LIFE  OF  SIR  WALTER  KALEIGH  (II) 

Sir   Walter  Scott.   232 

53. — SCENES  IN  THE  YELLOWSTONE  COUNTRY  .  W.  F.  Phelps.  239 
64- — THE  DISCOVERY  OF  PHOSPHORUS  .  .  Rodney  Welch.  243 
56. — THE  BURNING  OF  Moscow  (I)  ...  J.  T.  Headley.  251 
57.—  THE  BURNING  OF  Moscow  (II)  .  .  254 

59.— THE  "ARIEL"  AMONG  THE  SHOALS  (I).  J.  F.  Cooper.  261 
60.— THE  "ARIEL"  AMONG  THE  SHOALS  (II)  "  268 

62. — THE  FIRST  SHIP  OF  PETER  THE  GREAT   .  E.  Schuyler.  276 


FIFTH    READER.  9 

LESSON  PAGE 

63. — MY  FIRST  DAY  IN  THE  QUARRY       .     .     Hugh  Miller.  282 

65. — AN  HEROIC  DEED Freeman  Hunt.  289 

66. — ON  CONVERSATION Sir  Matthew  Hale.   294 

68. — GENEROUS  REVENGE    . .  302 

69. — THE  ONSET  OF  THE  IROQUOIS      .        Francis  Parkman.  307 

71. — TROPICAL  VEGETATION  IN  SOUTH  AMERICA 

Charles  Kingsley.  317 
72. — FRANKLIN'S  VISIT  TO  His  MOTHER     .    Freeman  Hunt.  321 

74.—  THE  SKY John  Ruskin.  331 

75. — A  DINNER  PARTY  IN  ANCIENT  THEBES  .  Mrs.  J.  D.  Steels.  335 
77.—  THE  DISCOVERY  OF  AMERICA  (1)  .  Washington  Irving.  342 
78. — THE  DISCOVERY  OF  AMERICA  (II)  .  "  348 

80. — LOST  ON  THE  FLOES  (I)       ....  Elisha  K.  Kane.  356 

81.—  LOST  ON  THE  FLOES  (II) "        "         "      362 

83. — BENEATH  THE  FALLS  OF  NIAGARA  .  .  John  Tyndall.  370 
84- — THE  COLISEUM  AT  KOME  .  .  Charlotte  M.  Yonge.  376 
86. — THE  GOLDEN  TEMPLE  OF  PERU  .  .  W.  H.  Prescott.  383 
87. —CAPTURE  AND  ESCAPE  OF  GENERAL  WADS  WORTH. 

S.  A.  Drake.  387 
89. — THE  RUBBER  TREES  OF  THE  AMAZON    Herbert  H.  Smith.  396 

90. — ANECDOTE  OF  SIR  MATTHEW  HALE 401 

92. — SILK- WORMS John  Henry  Gray.  408 

93. — LATOUR  D'AUVERGNE 413 

96. — CAPTURE  OF  QUEBEC Warburton.  428 

98. — THE  BATTLE  OF  THERMOPYL^  (I)  .  .  C.  M.  Yonge.  440 
99. — THE  BATTLE  OF  THERMOPYL^  (II)  ..."  "  446 


1O  FIFTH     READER. 

LESSON  PAGE 

GOLD  DUST 459 

DEFINITIONS 463 

PROPER  NAMES 477 

LESSONS     IN     VERSE. 

3. — LITTLE  FEET Florence  Percy.  42 

7. — WHAT  I  LIVE  FOR G.  Linnceus  Banks.  58 

10. — THE  OLD  FARM-HOUSE 69 

13. — THE  FROST  SPIRIT     ......  John  G.  Whittier.  82 

./&_ GRADATIM J.  a.  Holland.  94 

19. — SONG  OP  THE  AMERICAN  EAGLE 104 

22. — THE  SUNBEAM Mrs.  Hemans.  114 

25. — OUR  COUNTRY W.  J.  Parbodie.  126 

28. — KENTUCKY  BELLE Constance  F.  Woolson.  135 

31. — THE  BRAVE  AT  HOME T.  Buchanan  Read.  151 

34- — DRIVING  HOME  THE  Cows    ....    Kate  P.  Osgood.  164 

37.—  THE  BISON  TRACK Bayard  Taylor.  173 

40. — LEGEND  OF  THE  CANON        .     .     .    Jeremiah  Mahoney.  184 

43. — AN  ORDER  FOR  A  PICTURE Alice  Gary.  197 

46.—"  CURFEW  MUST  NOT  RING  TO-^IGHT,"  Rosa  H.  Thorpe.  209 

49. — CUSTER'S  LAST  CHARGE    .     .     .     Frederick  Whittaker.  224 

52.—  TRUE  HEROISM 237 

55. — THE  DEATH  OF  THE  OLD  YEAR       .     Alfred  Tennyson.  248 

58. — A  THANKSGIVING        Lucy  Larconi.  259 

61.— THE  SONG  OF  STEAM G.    W.   Cutter.  273 

64.— MIDSUMMER J.   T.   Trowbridge.  287 


FIFTH    READER.  11 

LESSON  PAQE 

67. — THE  FACE  AGAINST  THE  PANE 299 

70.—  THE  VANE  ON  THE  SPIRE    .     .     .     .     B.  F.   Taylor.  313 

73. — THE  WIDOW  OF  GLENCOE     .     .    William  E.  Aytoun.  328 

76.—  YIBGINIUS T.  B.  Macaulay.  339 

79.— THE  CAVALRY  CHARGE B.  F.   Taylor.  354 

82. — THE  BIVOUAC  OP  THE  DEAD    .     .    Theodore   O' If ara.  367 

85. — A  ROMAN  LEGEND  ....     Henry   W.  Longfellow.  380 

88.— SNOW-BOUND  (Selection)     .     .     .     John  G.    Whittier.  392 

91. — THE  AMERICAN  FLAG.     .     .     Joseph  Rodman  Drake.  405 

&£.— THE  DEAD  GRENADIER B.  F.   Taylor.  419 

95. — SCENE  FROM  "KING  JOHN" Shakspeare.  422 

97. — ELEGY  WRITTEN  IN  A  COUNTRY  CHURCH- YARD  .    Gray.  435 

100.—  THE  RAVEN Edgar  A.  Poe.  454 


ACKNOWLEDGMENTS. 


The  publishers  desire  to  thank  Messrs.  Houghton,  Mifflin  & 

Co.,    Harper    &    Brothers,    Charles  Scribner's    Sons,    and    S.    C. 

Griggs   &   Co.,    for    permission    to  use    some    of    their    valuable 
copyright  matter  in  this  book. 


LIST    OF    AUTHORS. 


ALLEN,  MARY  W.,  71. 
ANDERSEN,  HANS  C.,  109. 
AUDUBON,  JOHN  J.,  175. 
AYTOTJN,  W.  E.,  328. 
BAKER,  SIR  S.  W.,  84,  89. 
BANKS,  G.  LINNJEUS,  58. 
BEECHER,  H.  W.,  170,  459. 
BRYANT,  WILLIAM  C.,  459. 
BURKE,  EDMUND,  459. 
BYRON,  LORD,  460. 
GARY,  ALICE,  197. 
CHANNING,  W.  E.,  460. 
CHESTERFIELD,  P.  D.  S.,  459. 
CLEMENS,  S.  L.,  219. 
COLERIDGE,  S.  T.,  459. 
COLTON,  W.,  461. 
COOPER,  J.  F.,  261,  268. 
COWPER  WILLIAM,  460,  462. 
CUTTER,  G.  W.,  273. 
DANA,  K.  H.,  JR.,  106. 
DICKENS,  CHARLES,  212. 
DRAKE,  JOSEPH  B,.,  405. 
DRAKE,  S.  A.,  387. 
DRYDEN,  JOHN,  461. 
EMERSON,  E.  W.,  459,  460. 
FRANKLIN,  BENJAMIN,  461. 
GOLDSMITH,  OLIVER,  152. 


GOSSE,  P.  H.,  193. 
GRAY,  JOHN  HENRY,  408. 
GRAY,  THOMAS,  435. 
HALE,  MATTHEW,  294. 
HAWTHORNE,  N.,  60,  64. 
HEADLEY,  J.  T.,  251,  254. 
HEMANS,  FELICIA  D.,  114. 
HOLLAND,  J.  G.,  94. 
HOLMES,  0.  W.,  459. 
HUGHES,  THOMAS,  144. 
HUNTER,  ALEX.,  180. 
HUNT,  FREEMAN,  158,  289,  321. 
IRVING,  WASHINGTON,  342,  348. 
JERROLD,  DOUGLAS,  166. 
KANE,  ELISHA  KENT,  356,  362. 
KING,  EDWARD,  187. 
KINGSLEY,  CHARLES,  317,  462. 
LARCOM,  LUCY,  259. 
LONGFELLOW,  HENRY  W.,  380, 

460,  461,  462. 
LUBBOCK,  SIR  JOHN,  49,  53. 
MACAULAY,  T.  B.,  339. 
MAHONEY,  JEREMIAH,  184. 
MARTINEAU,  HARRIET,  132. 
MAURY,  M.  F.,  140. 
MILLER,  HUGH,  282. 
O'HARA,  THEODORE,  367. 


FIFTH     READER. 


13 


OSGOOD,  KATE  P.,  164. 
PARBODIE,  W.  J.,  126. 
PAEKMAN,  FRANCIS,  307. 
PERCY,  FLORENCE,  42. 
PHELPS,  W.  F.,  239. 
PICKARD,  J.  C.,  33,  38. 
POE,  EDGAR  A.,  454. 
PRESCOTT,  W.  H.,  383. 
EEAD,  T.  B.,  151. 
KOBBINS,  MRS.  E.  D.  C.,  120. 
RUSKIN,  JOHN,  331,  462. 
SCHUYLER,  EUGENE,  276. 
SCOTT,  SIR  W.,  205,  227,  232, 

461. 
SHAKSPEARE,     WILLIAM,     422, 

459,  461,  462. 
SMITH,  HERBERT  H.,  396. 


STEELE,  MRS.  J.  D.,  335. 
SWIFT,  JONATHAN,  460,  461. 
TAYLOR,  BAYARD,  173. 
TAYLOR,  BENJAMIN  E.,  201,  313, 

354,  419. 

TENNYSON,  ALFRED,  248,  460. 
THORPE,  ROSA  H.,  209. 
THOMSON,  JAMES,  459. 
TYNDALL,  JOHN,  370. 
WALLACE,  A.  R.,  96,  100,  128. 
WARBURTON,  428. 
WELCH,  RODNEY,  243. 
WHITTAKER,  FREDERICK,  224. 
WHITTIER,  J.  G.,  82,  392,  460. 
WOOLSON,  CONSTANCE  F.,  135. 
YONGE,    CHARLOTTE    M.,    376, 

440,  446. 


LIST     OF     ILLUSTRATIONS. 


THE  CURFEW     .     .     .     .  C.  D.  Weldon.     .    Robert  Varley.       2 

ELEPHANT  HUNTING  .     .  Paul  Frenzeny  .     Paul  Del  Orme.     87 

SOLDIER'S  REPRIEVE    .     .  C.  M.  Mellhenney    .  J.  A.  Bogert.   122 

EXPLOIT  OF  WALLACE  .  Sehell  d-  Hogan.    .  Samuel  Davis.  208 

CUSTER'S  LAST  CHARGE  .  W.  M.  Gary  .     .      Horace  Baker.  226 

THE  "ARIEL" E.  R.  Tichenor.  272 

LITTLE  MABEL  .     .     .     .  J.  S.  Davis    .     .      H.   W.  Miller.  300 

WIDOW  OF  GLENCOE.     .  George  White  .     .     .  W.  Mollier.  330 


14  FIFTH    READER. 

SUBJECT.  ARTIST.  ENGRAVER.  PAGE 

VIRGINIUS W.  St.  J.  Harper    .     .  H.  Velten.  340 

LOST  ON  THE  FLOES.     .     M.  J.  Burns.     .    Wm.  McCracken.  365 

LATOTJR  D'AUVERGNE  .     .  Paul  Frenzeny    .      Samuel  Davis.  417 

CAPTURE  OF  QUEBEC     .     T.  De  Thulstrup      .     E.  C.  Held.  434 

THERMOPYLJS     ....   George  White 448 


Elocution  is  the  art  of  using  the  voice  for  the 
proper  expression  of  thought. 

The  divisions  under  which  Elocution  will  be  con- 
sidered are  Pronunciation  and  Expression. 

Before  undertaking  to  put  in  application  any  system,  of  rules 
for  delivery,  we  must  thoroughly  understand  the  thoughts  to  be 
expressed.  To  listen  to  good  reading  will  educate  us  for  the  ex- 
pression of  thought ;  but  in  no  sense  is  it  true  that  elocution  can 
be  learned  by  exact  imitation.  Our  observation  of  another's  per- 
formance may  give  us  the  general  theory  of  expression ;  but  our 
own  improvement  must  depend  altogether  upon  our  own  labors. 
"Practice  makes  perfect"  is  the  motto  constantly  to  be  borne  in 
mind :  yet  it  must  be  intelligent  practice,  and  not  blind  imitation, 
which  can  result  only  in  making  mechanical  readers. 


PRONUNCIATION. 

Pronunciation  treats  of  the  Elementary  Sounds  of 
the  Language,  Articulation,  Syllabication,  and  Ac- 
cent. 

The  Phonic  Chart  on  page  32  contains  a  list  of  the  elementary 
sounds  with  their  equivalents ;  and  the  continued  practice  upon 
syllabication  and  accent  in  all  the  books  of  this  series,  makes  it 
unnecessary  to  repeat  in  abstract  form  what  has  already  been 
mastered  by  experience. 


16  FIFTH    READER. 


ARTICULATION. 

Articulation  is  the  act  of  uttering  the  element- 
ary sounds,  either  separately  or  together  in  syllables. 

One  meaning  of  the  word  articulate  is  to  join  or  unite,  and  the 
meaning  of  articulation  as  used  in  elocution  is  to  utter  words  so 
as  to  exhibit  every  joint,  i.e.,  elementary  sound. 

A  vowel  by  itself  is  easily  sounded,  and  a  syl- 
lable containing  one  vowel  and  one  consonant 
usually  presents  no  difficulty ;  but  where  two,  three, 
or  more  consonants  are  joined  with  a  single  vowel, 
considerable  effort  is  sometimes  necessary  to  articu- 
late them  correctly. 

Examples.— Well,  tivelve,  twelfth,  twelfths;  read,  breadth,  breadths. 

The  accented  syllable  of  a  long  word  may  be  in 
such  a  position  as  to  render  the  articulation  of  the 
other  syllables  very  difficult. 

Examples.— Dis' so  lu  "ble,  ex'e  era  ble,  for'  mi  da  ble. 

The  repetition  of  the  same  or  similar  sounds  in- 
creases the  difficulty  of  articulation. 

Examples.— With  this  speech.     This  is  a  last  surprise. 
In  the  •  last  two  examples  we  may  articulate  so  poorly  as  to 
change  the  meaning ;  as,  With  his  peach.    This  is  alas  surprise. 

A  faulty  articulation  can  be  much  improved  by 
pronouncing  words  in  a  whisper. 

This  exercise  does  away  with  the  use  of  loud  speaking  to 
counteract  a  poor  articulation.  As  soon  as  we  understand  that 
words  are  made  up  principally  of  consonants,  and  that  conso- 
nants have  little  or  no  sound  of  themselves,  we  see  the  import- 
ance of  forming  them  correctly. 

Suggestion.— Let  the  class  practice  occasionally  upon  the  con- 
sonants, using  such  exercises  as  the  following : 


FIFTH     READER.  17 


EXE  RCISE. 

Pronounce  in  a  whisper— 


p, 

peep 

b, 

hob 

f, 

fife. 

v, 

five 

t, 

tight 

d, 

did 

th, 

thin 

th, 

this 

k, 

kick 

g> 

gig 

ch, 

chin 

sh, 

shop 

1, 

lull 

m, 

make 

n, 

noon 

r, 

rare 

s, 

sense 

s, 

as 

zh, 

azure 

g, 

age 

h, 

he 

w, 

we 

y, 

ye 

c, 

cede 

Another  excellent  exercise  is  to  separate  words 
into  their  elements,  and  then  put  them  together 
again. 

EXERCISE. 

boh 
b  — o  — b 

b o b 

b-o  — b 
bob 

From  what  has  been  said,  we  may  derive  the 
following  rules  in  regard  to  articulation: 

I.  Every    sound    in    a    word,   whether    vowel   or 
consonant,  should  be  pronounced. 

II.  Each  syllable  of  a  word  should  be  pronounced 
distinctly. 

III.  The  words  in  a  sentence  should  be  separated 
from  one  another. 


The  careless  habit  of  running  words  together  in  reading  is 
very  easily  corrected  by  reading  the  words  of  a  sentence  back- 
ward. By  the  latter  method  each  word  is  separated  rather  more 
widely  from  its  successor  than  is  necessary  in  direct  reading. 


18  FIFTH    READER. 


EXPRESSION. 

Expression  includes  in  its  treatment  the  consid- 
eration of  Tone  of  Voice,  Rate  or  Movement,  Force, 
Pitch,  Emphasis,  Pauses,  Inflection,  and  Modulation. 

TONE    OF    VOICE. 

Tone,  or  Quality,  of  Voice  is  the  kind  of  sound, 
used  in  reading  or  speaking;  as,  a  full  tone,  a  quiet- 
tone,  or  a  loud  tone. 

The  Tone  should  "be  in  harmony  with  the  thoughts 
expressed.  In  other  words,  Tone  is  regulated  by 
sentiment. 

If  the  feelings  to  be  expressed  are  quiet  In  their  nature,  the 
tone  of  voice  will  "be  quiet;  if  the  sentiment  is  joyous,  the  tone 
will  be  full  and  clear.  Horror  requires  a  harsh,  unnatural  tone; 
fear,  a  suppressed  tone,  scarcely  above  a  whisper. 

The  Conversational  Tone  of  Voice  is  that  used  in 
expressing  quiet  or  unemotional  thoughts. 

In  speaking  of  a  lesson  as  requiring  to  be  read  in  a  conver- 
sational tone,  we  mean  that  the  conversational  tone  is  the  pre- 
vailing tone  to  be  used.  A  change  of  tone  for  a  few  lines  may 
occur  in  any  reading  lesson ;  but  need  not  be  taken  into  account 
in  speaking  of  the  general  tone  of  the  piece. 

EXAMPLES     OF     CONVERSATIONAL     TONE. 

It  was  the  time  when  lilies  blow, 

And  clouds  are  highest  up  in  air, 
Lord  Ronald  brought  a  lily-white  doe 

To  give  to  his  cousin,  Lady  Clare. 

From  "Lady  Clare,"  by  TENNYSON. 

To  read  with  attention,  exactly  to  define  the  expressions  of  our 
author,  never  to  admit  a  conclusion  without  comprehending  its 
reason,  often  to  pause,  reflect,  and  interrogate  ourselves,— these 
are  so  many  advices  which  it  is  easy  to  give,  but  difficult  to 
follow. 

GIBBON. 


FIFTH    READER.  19 

"Sit  down,  Mr.  Nickleby,"  said  Squeers.  "Here  we  are 
a-breakfasting,  you  see  !  "  . 

Nicholas  did  not  see  that  any  body  was  breakfasting,  except 
Mr.  Squeers ;  but  he  bowed  with  all  becoming  reverence,  and 
looked  as  cheerful  as  he  could. 

From  "Nicholas  Mokleby,"  by  DICKENS. 

Suggestion.  —  Each  member  of  the  class  should  be  required  to 
furnish  one  or  more  short  examples  under  each  topic  of  Expres- 
sion. Independent  work  will  insure  substantial  progress. 


A  Full  Tone  of  Voice  is  used  to  express  such, 
sentiments  as  great  joy,  sublimity,  lofty  courage, 
reverential  fear,  exultation,  and  otners  of  a  similar 
nature. 

EXAMPLES     OF     FULL     TONE. 

Ring  out,  wild  bells,  to  the  wild  sky, 
The  flying  cloud,  the  frosty  light; 
The  year  is  dying  in  the  night ; 

Ring  out,  wild  bells,  and  let  him  die. 

From  "Death  of  (he  Old  Year,"  by  TENNYSON. 

When  the  world  is  dark  with  tempests, 

"When  thunder  rolls  and  lightning  flies, 

Thou  lookest  forth  in  thy  beauty  from  the  clouds, 

And  laughest  at  the  storm. 

From  "  Ossian,"  by  MACPHERSON. 

Hail  universal  Lord,  be  bounteous  still 
To  give  us  only  good ;   and  if  the  night 
Have  gather'd  aught  of  evil,  or  conceal'd, 
Disperse  it,  as  now  light  dispels  the  dark. 

From  "Paradise  Lost"  by  MILTON. 

Proceed,  plot,  conspire,  as  thou  wilt,— there  is  nothing  thou 
canst  contrive,  propose,  attempt,  which  I  shall  not  promptly  be 
made  aware  of.  Thou  shalt  soon  be  convinced  that  I  am  even 
more  active  in  providing  for  the  preservation  of  the  state,  than 
thou  in  plotting  its  destruction. 

From  '•'•Oration  I.  against    Catiline,"  by  CICERO. 


2O  FIFTH    READER. 

The  Middle  Tone  of  Voice  is  adapted  to  the  ex- 
pression of  sentiments  not  conversational,  and  yet 
too  moderate  in  their  nature  to  require  a  full  tone. 

EXAMPLES      OF      MIDDLE      TONE. 

I  bring  fresh  showers  for  the  thirsting  flowers, 

From  the  seas  and  the  streams ; 
I  "bear  light  shade  for  the  leaves  when  laid 

In  their  noonday  dreams. 

From  "  The  Cloud,"  by  SHELLBY. 

Between  the  dark  and  the  daylight, 

When  night  is  beginning  to  lower, 
Comes  a  pause  in  the  day's  occupations, 

That  is  known  as  the  children's  hour. 

From  "  The  Children's  Hour,"''  by  LONGFELLOW. 

The  easy  chair,  all  patched  with  care, 

Is  placed  "by  the  cold  hearth-stone, 
With  witching  grace,  in  the  old  fire-place, 

The  evergreens  are  strewn ; 
And  pictures  hang  on  the  whitened  wall, 
And  the  old  clock  ticks  in  the  cottage  hall. 

Remark.  — Almost  any  quiet  sentiment  may  find  utterance  in 
a  middle  tone  of  voice.  Meditation,  soliloquy,  quiet  pleasure,  and 
happiness,  are  expressed  incorrectly  if  given  with  a  full  tone  — 
they  are  exaggerated  and  appear  unnatural ;  again,  if  given  in  a 
conversational  tone,  they  are  lacking  in  fullness  of  expression. 

The  size  of  a  room  affects  in  a  measure  the  tone  of  voice  used. 
A  large  room  requires  more  volume  of  voice  than  a  small  room ; 
and  for  this  reason,  the  conversational  tone  in  a  large  room  should 
be  discarded  for  the  middle  or  even  the  full  tone. 

The  Calling  Tone  of  Voice  is  used  in  loud  excla- 
mations, in  addressing  persons  at  a  distance,  and 
in  unbridled  passion. 

Properly  speaking,  the  Calling  Tone  is  only  a  Full  Tone  used 
spasmodically.  The  name  is  used  in  this  book  simply  for  the 
sake  of  convenience.  A  pleasing  substitute  for  the  Calling  Tone 
in  a  small  room  is  a  quiet  utterance  in  imitation  of  an  echo,— 
calling  tones  as  they  would  sound  a  long  distance  away. 


FIFTH     READER.  21 


EXAMPLE      OF      CALLING     TONE 

He  shook  the  fragment  of  his  blade. 

And  shouted  "Victory! 

Charge,   Chester,  charge  !     On,   Stanley,  on  ! " 
Were  the  last  words  of  Marmion. 

From  "  Marmion,"  by  SCOTT. 


RATE     OR     MOVEMENT. 

The  Rate  of  reading  may  be  moderate,  fast,  or 
slow. 

No  two  persons  in  a  class  will  read  a  lesson  with  the  same 
rate,  although  every  one  in  the  class  may  accord  to  the  lesson 
the  same  sentiment,  and  call  the  rate  slow,  or  fast,  or  moderate. 
The  difference  will  be  only  in  practice,  and  not  at  all  in  theory. 

Suggestion.—  Beading  in  concert  will  do  more  to  correct  the 
faults  of  individuals  in  regard  to  time  than  any  amount  of  ad- 
monition. A  sluggish  or  a  rapid  reader  will  realize  his  defect  as 
soon  as  he  reads  with  others,  and  is  obliged  to  regulate  his  time 
according  to  theirs. 

A  Moderate  Hate  is  suitable  for  all  kinds  of  quiet 
discourse,  whether  conversational,  narrative,  or  de- 
scriptive. 

Conversational  subjects  should  be  treated  neither  too  slowly 
nor  too  rapidly.  Even  if  the  articulation  of  a  speaker  is  clear 
and  distinct,  he  will  weary  his  hearers  by  speaking  too  rapidly, 
and  the  effect  of  what  is  said  will  be  in  part  lost. 

EXAMPLES   OF   MODERATE   RATE. 

No  stir  in  the  air,  no  stir  in  the  sea,— 
The  ship  was  still  as  she  might  be ; 
Her  sails  from  heaven  received  no  motion; 
Her  keel  was  steady  in  the  ocean. 

from  the  "  Inchcape  Rock,"  by  SOUTHBT. 

In  Columbus  were  singularly  combined  the  practical  and  the 
poetical.  His  mind  had  grasped  all  kinds  of  knowledge,  whether 
procured  by  study  or  observation,  which  bore  upon  his  theories. 

From  "History  of  Columbus,"  by  IRVING. 


FIFTH    READER. 


The  splendor  falls  on  castle  walls, 
And  snowy  summits  old  in  story; 

The  long  light  shakes  across  the  lakes, 
And  the  wild  cataract  leaps  in  glory. 

From  '•'•Bugle  Song,"  by  TENNYSON. 

In  the  second  of  the  three  examples  the  time  is  slightly  differ- 
ent from  that  of  the  first  and  third,  and  yet  they  would  all  be 
examples  of  moderate  rate. 

A  Fast  Mate  may  be  used  in  expressing  such  feel- 
ings as  delight,  anxiety,  terror,  and  violent  anger. 


EXAMPLES      OF      FAST      RATE. 

He  is  come  I  he  is  come  1   do  ye  not  behold 
His  ample  robes  on  the  wind  unrolled  ? 

From  "  The  Hurricane,"  by  BRYANT. 

"She  is  won!  we  are  gone!  over  bank,  bush,  and  scaur, 
They'll  have  fleet  steeds  that  follow,"  quoth   young  Lochinvar. 

From  "  Lochinvar,"  by  SCOTT. 

They  crush  and  they  crowd;  they  trample  upon  the  living 
and  the  dead.  A  multitude  fills  roads,  paths,  bridges,  plains, 
hills,  valleys,  woods,  choked  up  by  the  flight  of  forty  thousand 
men. 

From  "Les  Miserables,"  by  HUGO. 

A  Slow  Rate  is  in  keeping  with  the  expression  of 
solemnity,  grandeur,  reverential  fear,  and  like  emo- 
tions. 

EXAMPLES      OF      SLOW      RATE. 

Slowly  and  sadly  we  laid  him  down, 

Prom  the  field  of  his  fame  fresh  and  gory  I 

"We  carved  not  a  line,  we  raised  not  a  stone, 
But  we  left  him  alone  in  his  glory. 

From  "  The  Burial  of  Sir  John  Moore,"  by  WOLFE. 

Adams  and  Jefferson  are  no  more.  On  our  fiftieth  anniver- 
sary, the  great  day  of  national  jubilee,  in  the  very  hour  of  pub- 
lic rejoicing,  they  took  their  flight  together  to  the  world  of 
spirits. 

From  "Adams  and  Jefferson,"  by  WEBSTER. 


FIFTH    READER.  23 


Roll  on,  thou  deep  and  dark  blue  Ocean,— roll ! 
Ten  thousand  fleets  sweep  over  thee  in  vain. 

From  "Apostrophe  to  the  Ocean"  by  BYRON. 

The  degree  of  slowness  or  rapidity  will  depend  upon  the  in- 
tensity of  the  feelings.  In  the  case  of  anger,  for  instance,  if  we 
have  perfect  control  of  ourselves,  we  may  speak  slowly  and  de- 
liberately ;  but  if  the  feeling  masters  us,  our  utterance  will  be  as 
rapid  as  possible. 


PITCH. 

Pitch  is  the  elevation  or  depression  of  the  voice 
in  speaking. 

This  elevation  or  depression  is  reckoned  from  the  natural  pitch, 
of  the  voice,  or,  as  it  is  sometimes  called,  the  key  of  the  voice. 
As  the  musical  range  of  all  voices  is  not  the  same,  we  have  no 
fixed  method  of  reckoning  pitch,  and  can  only  describe  it  with 
reference  to  individual  voices. 

Natural  Pitch  is  that  used  in  ordinary  conversa- 
tion. 

With  the  delivery  of  very  joyful  sentiments,  our  voices  should 
rise  to  a  higher  pitch  than  is  used  in  conversation  ;  but  in  ex- 
pressing calm  sorrow  or  sad  emotions  of  any  kind,  we  should  use 
a  low  pitch. 

Pitch,  then,  as  well  as  tone,  force,  and  rate,  depends  altogether 
upon  the  sentiments  to  be  expressed. 

Middle  Pitch  is  that  used  in  ordinary  conversa- 
tion and  in  the  delivery  of  unemotional  thoughts. 

EXAMPLES      OF      MIDDLE      PITCH. 

Surly,  dozing  humble-bee  ! 
Where  thou  art  is  clime  for  me. 

From  "  To  the  Humble-Bee"  by  EMERSON. 

To  him  who  in  the  love  of  Nature,  holds 
Communion  with  her  visible  forms,   she  speaks 
A  various  language. 

From  "  Thanatopsi^"1  by  BRYANT. 


24  FIFTH    READER. 


Speak  the  speech,  I  pray  you,  as  I  pronounced  it  to  you,  trip- 
pingly on  the  tongue ;  but  if  you  mouth  it,  as  many  of  your 
players  dc  I  had  as  lief  the  town-crier  spoke  my  lines. 

From  "  Hamlet,"  by  SHAKSPEARE. 

High  Pitch  is  used  in  expressing  thoughts  that 
require  considerable  force  for  their  proper  delivery, 
or  of  which  the  sentiment  is  light  and  joyous. 

EXAMPLES     OF      HIGH      PITCH. 

Cheerily,  then,  my  little  man, 
Live  and  laugh  as  boyhood  can  ! 

From  "  The  Barefoot  Boy,"  by  WHITTIER. 

And  see  !  she  stirs  ! 

She  starts,— she  moves,— she  seems  to  feel 

The  thrill  of  life  along  her  keel ! 

From  "  The  Launch  of  the  Ship,"  by  LONGFELLOW. 

Hail  to  thee,  blithe  spirit  1— 

Bird  thou  never  wert, 

That  from  heaven,  or  near  it, 

Pourest  thy  full  heart 

In  profuse  strains  of  unpremeditated  art. 

From  "  Ode  to  the  Skylark,"  by  SHELLEY. 

Low  Pitch  indicates  great  serenity  of  mind,  and 
is  used  to  express  deep  joy,  calm  sorrow,  and  kin- 
dred emotions. 


EXAMPLES      OF       LOW       PITCH. 

Not  a  drum  was  heard,  not  a  funeral  note, 
As  his  corse  to  the  rampart  we  hurried ; 

Not  a  soldier  discharged  his  farewell  shot, 
O'er  the  grave  where  our  hero  we  buried. 

From  "  The  Burial  of  Sir  John  Moore,"  by  WOLFE. 

All  sights  were  mellowed  and  all  sounds  subdued; 

The  hills  seemed  farther,  and  the  streams  sung  low; 
As  in  a  dream,  the  distant  woodman  hewed 

His  winter-log  with  many  a  muffled  blow. 

From  "  The   Closing  Scene,"  by  READ. 


FIFTH    READER.  25 


All  is  peace.  The  heights  of  yonder  metropolis,  its  towers  and. 
roofs,  which  you  then  saw  filled  with  wives  and  children,  and 
countrymen,  in  distress  and  terror,  and  looking  with  unutterable 
emotions  for  the  issue  of  the  combat,  have  presented  you  to-day 
with  the  sight  of  its  whole  happy  population,  come  out  to  wel- 
come and  greet  you  with  a  universal  jubilee.— From  "  Oration  at  the 
Laying  of  the  Corner-stone  of  Bunker  Hitt  Monument, "  by  WEBSTEB. 


TR  AN  SITION. 

A  change  of  sentiment  will  always  be  accom- 
panied with  a  change  in  the  manner  of  delivery. 
Such  a  change  is  called  a  Transition. 

In  almost  every  narrative  or  descriptive  selection,  there  will 
be  slight  changes  or  variations  in  feeling,  and  the  reading  should 
be  varied  to  express  such  changes. 

Two  faults  to  "be  avoided  in  reading  are  Monotony, 
or  sameness  of  tone,  and  Sing-Song,  or  a  regular 
method  of  elevating  and  lowering  the  voice  "by  a 
system  of  false  transitions  having  no  reference 
whatever  to  the  sentiment. 

We  have  considered  under  Expression  the  topics  which  relate 
to  the  sentiment  of  what  we  read.  We  must  now  consider  the 
topics  which  relate  to  the  delivery  of  separate  sentences  and 
their  parts,  phrases,  and  words. 


EMPHASIS. 

Emphasis  is  the  use  of  special  force  in  the  utter- 
ance of  certain  words  for  the  purpose  of  exhibiting 
their  importance  to  a  listener. 

Emphasis  is  of  various  degrees,  from  the  slight  force  given  to 
the  important  words  in  ordinary  discourse,  to  the  strongest 
force  given  to  words  in  emotional  utterances. 


26  FIFTH    READER. 

Absolute  Emphasis  "belongs  to  words  naturally 
important  to  the  meaning;  as,  "We  have  not  long 
to  live."  "  The  sun  begins  to  rise."  "  He  never  said 
that." 

In  the  last  example  given,  the  meaning  of  the  sentence  will 
be  changed  if  -we  emphasize  each  of  the  different  words  — 

He  never  said  that.  (Some  one  else  said  it.) 

He  never  said  that.  (At  no  time  in  his  life.) 

He  never  said  that.  (He  may  have  thought  it.) 

He  never  said  that.  (It  was  something  else  he  said.) 

If  there  is  any  doubt  as  to  which  words  in  a  sentence  are 
emphatic,  we  must  carefully  consider  the  meaning  of  the  sentence 
as  affected  by  the  sentences  which  precede  and  follow  it. 

Relative  Emphasis  "belongs  to  words  which  gain 
importance  through  contrast  with  other  words ;  as, 
66  Yesterday 9  hope  animated  every  breast ;  now  we  find 
ourselves  in  the  depths  of  despair." 

The  words  "yesterday"  and  "now,"  "hope"  and  "despair," 
have  added  to  the  emphasis  naturally  belonging  to  them,  the 
special  emphasis  due  to  their  contrasted  meaning. 

Emotional  Emphasis  is  given  to  words  which  ex- 
press a  depth  of  feeling  not  belonging  to  them  in 
unimpassioned  discourse:  — 

1.  By  increasing  the  force   when  the  same  word 
is  repeated;  as,  "I  never  would  lay  down  my  arms— 
newer,  NEVER,  NEVER!" 

2.  By  prolonging  the  sounds  of  words ;  as,  "  He  was 
a  squ-e-e-z-ing,  wr-e-nch-ing ,  gr-a-sp-ing,   scr-a-p-ing9 
cl-u-tch-ing ,  c-o-v-et-ous,  o-ld  sin-ner." 

The  example  just  given  is  called  an  elocutionary  climax.  There 
should  be  increased  force  given  to  each  of  the  words  as  they  fol- 
low one  another. 


FIFTH     READER.  27 

3.  By  loud  exclamations ;  as,  "  Victory ! "  "  Hurra ! " 
"A  horse,  a  horse!  my  kingdom  for  a  horse!" 

4.  By  stopping  between  words ;  as,  "  Caesar  paused 
on  the  bank   of  the  Rubicon.      IVhy  \  did  \  he  \  pause  ? 
IVJiy  |  does  |  a  man's  heart  |  palpitate  | ,  when  he  is  on 
the  point  of  committing  |  an  unlawful  |  deed  ? " 

This  last  mode  of  emphasis  shows  the  force  that  can  be  added 
to  what  we  say  by  making  such  pauses  as  will  aid  in  giving 
thoughts  their  full  importance.  The  use  of  too  many  or  too  long 
pauses  will,  however,  overdo  the  effect  of  emphasis  and  ruin  the 
force  of  expression. 


PAUSES. 

The  Pauses  used  in  reading  are  either  to  make 
the  meaning  clear,  or  to  emphasize  certain  words  or 
phrases.  The  former  are  called  Grammatical  Pauses; 
the  latter,  Rhetorical  Pauses. 

The    Grammatical  Pauses — period,   colon,  semicolon,  and    comma  — 

are  written  in  all  cases  where  the  sense  would  be   obscure  with- 
out them. 

Rhetorical  Pauses  are  used  to  add  emphasis  to 
certain  words  or  phrases ;  as,  "  This  |  is  my  answer : 
Not  that  I  loved  Caesar  |  less  |  ,  but  that  I  loved 
Rome  |  more." 

Rhetorical   Pauses   occur : 

1.  After   an   emphatic   subject;    as,    " This  |  is   my 
answer." 

2.  Before   any  emphatic  word ;  as,  "  Now,  |  now  is 
the  time  for  action !     We  must  conquer,  or  |  die." 


The  rhetorical  pause  before  "now"  calls  special  attention  to 
the  time;  that  before  "die"  to  the  dreadful  alternative.  The 
speaker's  evident  reluctance  to  say  "die"  raises  expectation  on 
the  part  of  his  hearers,  and  thus  makes  the  word  more  emphatic. 


28  FIFTH    READER. 

The  Caesural  Pause  occurs  either  at  or  near  the 
middle  of  every  line  of  poetry,  and  is  used  to  rest 
the  voice  and  to  mark  the  rhythm  (now)  of  the 
measure. 

EXAM  PLE. 

There  is  a  land  I  of  every  land  the  pride, 
Beloved  by  heaven  1  o'er  all  the  world  "beside ; 
Where  brighter  suns  J  dispense  serener  light, 
And  milder  moons  ||  emparadise  the  night. 

MONTOOMBKT. 

In  solemn  measure,  the  ccesural  pause  occurs  after  the  middle 
of  each  line ;  and  in  lively  measure,  before  the  middle  of  each 
line.  When  the  lines  of  poetry  are  very  short,  the  ccesural  pause 
is  sometimes  placed  after  each  line. 

INFLECTION 

Inflection  is  a  bending  or  turning*  of  the  voice 
at  the  close  of  a  syllable  or  word. 

The  rising  inflection,  marked  thus  ('),  is  a  turning 
of  the  voice  upward;  the  falling  inflection,  marked 
thus  p),  is  a  turning  of  the  voice  downward. 

EXAMPLES. 

"Hear  ye  yon  lion'  roaring  in  his  den'? 
'Tis  three  days  since  he  tasted  flesh". " 

"Do  you  hear  the  rain',  Mr.  Caudle'?  T  sayv,  do  |  you  |  hear  | 
the  |  rain7?  Nonsensev !  you  don't  impose  on  mex;  you  can'tr  be 
asleepN  I " 

"Affected  passion',  intense  expression',  the  pomp  of  declama- 
tions,  air  may  aspire'  after  it,— they  can  not  reachx  it." 

"Will  you  go  to-day'  or  to-morrowx ? 
"Where  do  you  expect  to  gox?" 

From  the  above  examples,  we  may  derive  the 
following  rules : 

1.  Questions  which  may  be  answered  by  yes  or 
no,  regularly  require  the  rising  inflection. 


FIFTH    READER.  29 

2.  Questions  which  can  not  be   answered  by  yes 
or  no,  require  the  falling  inflection. 

3.  The  rising  inflection  is  used  upon  one   of  two 
contrasted   words   or  phrases,   the   fatting   inflection 
upon  the  other. 

4.  The  rising  inflection  is  generally  used  upon  all 
the   words   or    phrases   of   a  series    except    the  last, 
which  takes  the  falling  inflection. 

Remark.  — The  rising  inflection  regularly  indicates  hesitation  or 
doubt ;  the  falling  inflection,  determination  or  decision. 

The  use  of  the  inflections  upon  series  of  words,  in  contrasts, 
is  to  avoid  unpleasant  sameness  of  sound.  Emphasis  may  require 
the  use  of  falling  inflections  only,  as  in  the  case  of  using  calling 
tones. 

The  Kising  Circumflex,  marked  thus  (v),  is  a 
slight  downward  turn  of  the  voice  followed  by  a 
rise;  and  the  Falling  Circumflex,  marked  thus  (A),  a 
slight  rise  followed  by  a  downward  turn. 

EXAMPLES. 

"  Shine, v  shine  v  forever/  glorious  A  flame/ 
Divinestv  giftv  of  godsv  to  man  A!" 

"To-morrowv,  didst  thou  sayv? 
Methought  I  heard  Horatio A  say,  To-morrow A." 

MOD  UL  ATIO  N. 

Modulation  is  the  agreeable  variation  of  sounds 
in  speaking,  caused  by  the  proper  use  of  tone, 
pitch,  force,  emphasis,  and  inflection.  By  employ- 
ing all  the  means  conducive  to  intelligent  reading, 
the  thoughts  we  express  receive  full  force  and  afford 
both  pleasure  and  interest. 

The  register,  or  extent,  of  the  speaking  voice  from  its  lowest  to 
its  highest  pitch,  will  vary  with  individuals,  and  no  fixed  scale 
of  vocal  tones  can  be  used  with  benefit  in  class  practice. 


SO  FIFTH    READER. 


Middle  Pitch  can  be  determined  without  difficulty,  since  it  is 
the  part  of  the  voice  used  in  conversation.  To  make  the  conver- 
sational tone  flexible  is  the  most  important  matter  to  be  consid- 
ered in  reading.  Unemotional  reading  is  difficult. 


THE     MONOTONE. 

The  Monotone  consists  in  the  repetition  of  the 
same  musical  note,  and  the  partial  absence  of  em- 
phasis and  inflection.  The  use  of  the  monotone  in- 
dicates great  solemnity. 

Those  who  read  a  passage  without  any  variation 
whatever,  ruin  the  effect  by  the  monotony  of  their 
reading.  The  correct  use  of  the  monotone  seems  to 
lie  in  dwelling  upon  the  same  note  through  a  num- 
ber of  words,  and,  in  case  of  a  change  to  a  higher 
or  lower  note,  in  holding  the  new  note  through 
several  words. 

EXAMPLE. 

"As  far  as  the  east  is  from  the  west,  so  far  hath  he  removed 

our  transgressions  from  us." 

BIBLE. 


READING     POETRY. 

In  reading  poetry,  the  phrasing,  or  grouping  of 
words  according  to  sense,  seems  to  be  more  difficult 
than  in  prose,  on  account  of  the  rhythm  and  the 
rhyme;  but  the  sense  is  most  important  and  must 
be  preserved. 

The  ccesural  pause  is  usually  preceded  by  a  slight 
increase  and  followed  by  a  slight  decrease  of  force. 

The  regular  recurrence  of  accented  and  unac- 
cented syllables  in  poetry— the  rhythm— requires  no 
effort  on  the  part  of  the  reader  to  make  it  evident. 


FIFTH     READER.  31 

Rhymed  verse  sounds  better  when  the  rhymed 
syllables  are  not  emphasized. 

Any  tendency  to  emphasize  regularly  certain 
syllables  in  each  line,  or  to  repeat  the  same  inflec- 
tions in  each  line,  constitutes  what  is  called  sing- 
song, and  must  be  carefully  guarded  against. 

Suggestion — Members  of  the  class  should  be  called 
upon  to  explain,  by  examples  of  their  own  selection, 
all  points  relating  to  elocution.  Practice  is  better 
than  theory. 


PHONIC    CHART. 

VOWELS. 


a     as     in 

lake 

a 

as 

in 

what 

6 

as 

in 

b6x 

a      "       " 

at 

e 

*< 

« 

be 

u 

tt 

(4 

use 

a      " 

far 

£ 

'* 

<4 

tet 

u 

d 

« 

up 

a      "       " 

all 

T 

" 

" 

196 

u 

" 

" 

fur 

a      "        " 

•e^re 

I 

ti 

(i 

In 

do 

« 

(4 

tdb 

a      "       " 

ask 

0 

it 

« 

so 

db 

« 

(4 

Idbk 

DIPHTHONGS, 
oi,      oy    (unmarked),    as    in    oil,    boy 


ou,    ow 


out, 


CONSONANTS 


b     as 

in      bad 

m 

as 

in 

me 

y 

as 

in 

y5s 

d      " 

"       do 

n 

« 

it 

no 

z 

M 

44 

froze 

f 

"       f6x 

P 

14 

" 

put- 

ng 

« 

44 

sing 

g     " 

"     go 

r 

(( 

u 

rat 

ch 

44 

a 

chl-ek 

h      " 

"       he 

s 

(4 

(( 

so 

sh 

(( 

« 

she 

j 

"       just 

t 

11 

(( 

too 

th 

M 

u 

think 

k      " 

"       kite 

V 

(( 

u 

vgry 

th 

a 

« 

the 

1       " 

"       16t 

w 

U 

u 

\ve 

wh 

(hw), 

(4 

what 

EQUIVALENTS. 
VOWELS. 


a  like  6    as  in  what 

e  '*  a     "  "  wh£r< 

e  "  a     "  "  they 

e  "  u     "  "  ner 


girl 


Q,  u  like  do  as  in  to,  rule 

6         "       u    "     "    -eome 

6          "       a    "    "    for 

u,  o    "      db  "    "    put,-eould 

y         "       I    "     "    by 

y         '«       I    "    "    klt'ty 


like 
tt 


as 

(4 


CONSONANTS. 


in 


-eat 
•cage 


n   like  ng   as  in  think 

§      "        z      "      "   ha§ 

x     "    ks,  or  gz   "  b6x,  exist 


/.  —  SOLDIER     FRITZ. 


PA  RT      I. 


•eor'po  ral,  an  officer  of  the  lowest 
grade  in  a  company  of  soldiers. 

rgg'i  merit,  a  body  of  soldiers, 
consisting  usually  of  ten  compa- 
nies. 

veVer  an,  one  who  has  been  long 
in  service. 

ser'dje^nt  (stir),  an  officer  next  in 
rank  above  a  corporal. 

mag  nlf'i  9ent,  grand,  fine. 


jn  ing,  making  a  sign  to 
another. 

ad'ju  tant,  a  staff  officer  who  is 
appointed  to  assist  the  colonel  in 
his  duties. 

e  mo'tion§,  movements  of  the 
mind  or  soul;  feelings. 

llb'er  al  ly,  freely;  with  a  gen- 
erous regard  for  others. 

pro  mot'ed,  raised  in  rank. 


Soldier  Fritz N  was  the  little  son  of  a  corporal  in 
the  Prussian  army,  and  lived  in  Brandenburg.  He 
loved  to  play  soldier  himself,  and  that  is  why  he 
was  called  Soldier  Fritz. 

His  father,  during  a  war  with  the  French,  was 
with  his  regiment  on  the  Rhine.N  Once,  when  writ- 
ing to  his  family,  he  told  them  how  he  sometimes 
suffered  for  want  of  vegetables.  "If  I  only  had  a 
peck  of  our  fine  potatoes,"  said  he,  "  how  good  they 
would  taste ! " 

By  day  and  by  night,  Soldier  Fritz  thought  and 
dreamed  of  his  poor  father;  and,  at  last,  without 


34  FIFTH    HEADER. 

the  knowledge  of  his  mother,  he  filled  a  bag  with 
the  finest  potatoes  in  the  cellar,  and  started  off  to 
find  his  father. 

At  noon,  on  the  first  day  of  his  journey,  he  came 
to  a  small  village,  went  into  the  first  inn  he  saw, 
and  sat  down  on  a  bench  to  rest.  There  were 
many  guests  in  the  large  room,  and  among  them 
an  old  crippled  soldier  with  a  wooden  leg. 

"  What  do  you  wish,  "boy  ? "  asked  the  soldier, 
rising,  striding  toward  Fritz,  and  measuring  him 
in  astonishment  from  head  to  foot. 

"I  wish  to  go  to  the  Rhine,"  was  the  answer. 
"My  father  has  "been  promoted  and  is  a  sergeant, 
"but  he  doesn't  care  for  that,  so  long  as  he  has 
no  potatoes.  So  I  wish  to  carry  him  some,  and 
have  picked  out  the  best.  Here  they  are  in  this 
sack." 

"Why,  you  strange  boy!"  said  the  soldier,  "tell 
that  again,  if  you  are  in  earnest,  and  so  that  you 
can  be  understood."  Fritz  did  so,  and  all  listened 
attentively.  When  he  had  done,  tears  stood  in  the 
eyes  of  the  veteran,  and  all  the  rest  were  much 
affected. 

"  You  are  a  real  soldier's  child,  and  my  old  heart 
trembles  with  joy  as  I  look  at  you."  So  saying  the 
veteran  caught  Fritz  and  kissed  him.  Then  the 
others  did  the  same,  and  even  the  big  landlord  was 
moved  to  his  inmost  soul.  Nor  would  they  let  him 
think  of  going  farther  that  day.  He  had  to  stay 
at  the  inn,  where  he  was  waited  on  as  if  he  were 
a  real  prince. 

In  the  evening  he  told  his  story  to  the  new 
guests,  and  was  at  last  led  to  a  chamber  and  put 
into  a  soft  bed,  where  he  slept  a  refreshing  sleep. 


FIFTH     READER.  35 

And  while  lie  was  sleeping,  the  old  soldier  told  the 
guests  it  would  be  a  shame  to  let  so  brave  a  boy 
go  farther  without  a  penny  for  his  journey. 

All  gladly  opened  their  purses  and  gave  liber- 
ally for  the  good  boy.  The  landlord  kept  the  money 
till  morning,  when  he  awoke  the  boy,  gave  him  a 
good  breakfast,  sewed  the  money  into  the  lining 
of  his  jacket,  and  bade  him  good-by  with  hearty 
wishes  for  his  welfare. 

From  this  place  he  went  on  foot  till  evening, 
when  he  was  again  obliged  to  pass  the  night  in  a 
village.  Here  he  told  his  story  as  before  and  was 
tenderly  cared  for. 

At  length,  after  journeying  many  days,  he  saw 
in  the  distance  the  first  sentinel  of  the  Prussian 
camp,  and  hastened  toward  him  with  flying  feet. 
"Do  you  know  where  I  can  find  my  father?"  he 
asked,  out  of  breath. 

" Stupid  boy!"  said  the  sentinel  harshly;  "do  you 
suppose  I  know  your  father's  name,  and  to  what 
regiment  he  belongs?" 

"Why  he  belongs  to  the  Brandenburg  regiment 
of  grenadiers,  and  his  name  is  Martin  Bollermann, 
and  he  is  a  sergeant." 

"Well,  if  that  is  true,  then  hunt  him  up!  You 
may  pass." 

Fritz  ran  on ;  came  to  a  second  sentinel,  and  a 
third,  and  at  last  fell  into  the  hands  of  an  adju- 
tant, who  examined  him  closely.  The  more  he  heard, 
the  more  friendly  he  became,  and  finally  patted  the 
boy's  cheek  very  kindly. 

"Come  with  me,"  he  said;  "I  think  we  shall  soon 
be  able  to  find  your  father." 

He  went   011   to   a   large,   magnificent  tent,   from 


36  FIFTH    READER. 

the  top  of  which,  waved  a  broad  banner.  Fritz 
trudged  cheerfully  along  by  his  side,  carrying  his 
potato  sack,  and,  at  the  officer's  beckoning,  followed 
fearlessly  into  the  tent.  Here  he  saw  an  elderly, 
magnificently  dressed  officer,  sitting  in  a  large  arm- 
chair at  a  camp-table,  and  apparently  studying  a 
map.  He  scarcely  looked  up,  and  merely  nodded 
his  head  a  very  little  as  Fritz's  attendant  respect- 
fully approached  him. 

"That  is  surely  a  general,"  Fritz  thought,  as  he 
remained  standing  near  the  entrance.  He  was  right. 
The  adjutant  spoke  in  a  low  tone  to  the  general,  who 
soon  turned  his  eyes  from  the  map,  listened  atten- 
tively to  the  adjutant's  story,  now  and  then  casting 
a  hasty  look  at  Fritz.  After  giving  the  officer  an 
order  and  dismissing  him,  he  beckoned  to  Fritz, 
who  at  once  obeyed,  and  with  soldierly  bearing 
stood  before  the  general. 

"What  is  your  name?"   the  general  asked. 

"Fritz  Bollermann,  and  I  am  called  Soldier  Fritz." 

The  general  smiled  and  asked  again:  "Where  do 
you  come  from?" 

"From  Brandenburg." 

"Why  have  you  come?" 

"To  bring  potatoes  to  my  father." 

"Is  this  really  true ?"  said  the  general  to  himself. 
"Have  you  them  actually  there  in  your  sack?"  he 
added  aloud. 

"Yes,  the  best  in  our  whole  cellar,"  said  Fritz, 
taking  the  sack  from  his  shoulder  and  opening  it. 
"Only  see,  sir!  all  of  them  round  and  smooth  as 
pebbles." 

"Well,  well,  my  son,  they  are  very  fine  and  give 
one  a  first-rate  appetite.  But  now  go  into  the  next 


FIFTH     READkfl.  37 

room  and  stay  till  I  call  you!  Leave  your  sack 
here  meanwhile ! " 

Fritz  went  as  ordered,  and  seated  himself  in  a 
large  arm-chair.  Wearied  by  the  hard  march  of  the 
day,  an^  more  perhaps  by  his  emotions,  he  was 
soon  nodding  and  at  last  fast  asleep.  So  the  gen- 
eral found  him  when,  about  half  an  hour  after,  he 
stepped  into  the  room.  He  let  the  boy  sleep  on, 
and  went  out  softly. 

While  Fritz  was  thus  forgetful  of  every  thing, 
the  general  was  busy  in  his  behalf,  and  did  not 
rest  till  he  found  the  old  sergeant,  Martin  Boller- 
mann,  of  the  Brandenburg  regiment.  He  had  him 
forthwith  ordered  to  come  to  supper  and  at  the 
same  time  invited  some  of  his  highest  officers. 
Nor  did  he  forget  to  give  his  cook  certain  necessary 
orders. 


Notes  and  Questions.  — Fritz  is  used  as  a  familiar  name  tor 
Frederic. 

The  river  Rhine  was  formerly  the  boundary  between  France 
and  Germany,  of  which  Prussia  forms  a  part.  The  desire  for  the 
possession  of  this  river  caused  many  wars. 

Where  is  Brandenburg?  How  do  you  distinguish  between  a 
village,  a  town,  and  a  city? 

Elocution.  — This  lesson  should  be  read  in  a  conversational 
tone  of  voice.  The  words  spoken  by  each  one  of  the  various 
speakers,  should  be  rendered  in  such  a  manner  as  to  represent 
the  feelings  of  the  speakers. 

Language.— Explain  the  meaning  of  the  following  expres- 
sions— 

"My  old  heart  trembles  with  joy."       "Flying  feet." 
"Was  moved  to  his  inmost  soul."          "Hunt  him  up." 
In    the    last   paragraph,    the    general    ordered   the    sergeant    to 
come  to  supper  and  invited  his  officers.     Explain  the  difference  in 
meaning  between   the   words.      What  would  be  the  difference  in 
meaning   in    case   the   words    commanded   and   requested   had    been 
used? 


38 


FIFTH    READER. 


.  — SOLDIER      FRITZ. 

PART      II. 


no'  tl£^  a  b%  likely  to  be  seen. 

sig  nif  i  -eant,  expressing  a  mean- 
ing; standing  as  a  sign. 

pam'per^d,  fed  luxuriously. 

fll'ial  (fil'yal),  becoming  a  child 
in  relation  to  his  parents. 

en  rapt'ur^d,  delighted  beyond 
measure. 

per  $e\ v^',  notice;  observe. 


al  ter'nat^  ly,  by  turns. 

stam'  mer^d,  hesitated  in  speak- 
ing. 

•e6n'de  s^Sn'sion,  (sen' shun), 
courtesy  shown  to  one  lower  in 
rank. 

•earn  pai^n',  the  time  that  an 
army  keeps  the  field. 

gen'u  In^,  real;  natural. 


The  guests  assembled  in  good  season,  and  took 
their  seats  at  the  table.  Some  were  astonished  to 
find  at  the  general's  table  a  mere  sergeant,  in  ser- 
geant's uniform.  But  most  of  all,  was  the  sergeant 
himself  astonished. 

*The  most  noticeable  thing,  next  to  the  sergeant, 
was  a  large,  covered  ^dish,  in  which  the  guests 
supposed  there  was,  without  doubt,  something  very 
costly  and  delicious;  and  they  cast  many  longing 
looks  toward  it.  The  general  observed  their  curi- 
osity, but  gave  not  the  slightest  hint  to  satisfy  it. 
He  smiled  when  he  looked  at  the  dish,  and  ex- 
changed occasionally  a  short,  significant  look  with 
his  adjutant.  Curiosity  became  extreme. 

At  length,  the  general,  with  loud  voice,  ordered 
the  sergeant  to  take  off  the  cover,  and  the  eyes  of 
all  were  turned  at  once  to  the  mysterious  dish. 
What  did  they  see?  Potatoes  in  the  skin,  which, 
indeed,  appeared  wonderfully  clean  and  inviting, 
but  which  disappointed  not  a  little  the  pampered 
taste  of  the  dainty  guests,  who  had  expected  some- 
thing quite  different.  The  only  one  who  heartily 


FIFTH    READER.  39 

rejoiced  was  Sergeant  Bollermaim,  and  lie  could 
scarcely  keep  back  an  exclamation  of  the  greatest 
surprise  and  delight. 

"  Till  now,"  said  the  general,  while  a  bright  smile 
played  about  his  lips— "till  now,  you  have  been  my 
guests ;  but  if  you  wish  to  enjoy  those  splendid 
potatoes,  you  must  turn  to  Sergeant  Bollermann ; 
they  belong  to  him."  The  officers  shrugged  their 
shoulders  scornfully.  The  general  seemed  to  care 
but  little  for  their  displeasiire. 

"If  you  knew  in  what  way  the  potatoes  came 
into  our  camp,  you  would  deem  it  an  honor  to 
receive  only  one  of  them." 

"How  so?  How  did  it  happen?"  they  asked. 
"Tell  us,  if  you  please." 

"I?  O  no!  I  have  no  skill  in  telling  fine  stories. 
But  since  I  see  that  you,  as  well  as  our  honest 
Bollermann,  are  somewhat  tormented  by  curiosity, 
I.  will  try  to  gratify  you  in  another  way.  Adju- 
tant !  bring  in  my  story-teller,  please."  The  adju- 
tant disappeared ;  all  looked  eagerly  toward  the 
entrance. 

The  heart  of  Bollermann  beat  as  if  it  would 
burst,  for  a  faint  suspicion  of  the  truth  seemed  to 
dawn  in  his  mind.  He  grew  white  and  red  by 
turns  and  did  not  perceive  how  steadily  and  with 
what  intense  interest  the  eyes  of  the  general  were 
resting  upon  him.  Soon  the  curtain  was  drawn, 
and  in  came,  at  the  adjutant's  side,  happy  and 
looking  around  with  bright  and  fearless  eyes,  Sol- 
dier Fritz. 

"  Fritz ! "  cried  the  sergeant,  forgetting  all  respect 
for  his  superiors,  and  springing  forward  with  out- 
spread arms.  "Fritz!  how  came  you  here?"  The 


4O  FIFTH     READER. 

boy  made  no  reply,  but  leaped  with  a  loud  cry  to 
his  father's  breast,  and  the  two  held  each  other  in 
a  long  and  close  embrace.  The  officers  gazed  with 
deep  emotion  at  this  wonderful  spectacle,  and  in 
the  eyes  of  the  general— a  dear,  good  man— glistened 
tears  of  joy. 

"Tell  us,  my  boy,  why  and  how  you  came 
hither,"  he  said;  "but  first  be  at  ease  and  sit  down 
at  the  table.  You  need  not  hesitate  to  do  so— not 
if  it  were  a  king's  table.  Your  true  filial  love  has 
earned  the  honor." 

The  officers  were  all  attention,  as  Fritz,  holding 
his  father's  hand,  related  his  story.  Their  stern 
bearing  became  more  kindly,  and  their  faces  brighter. 
They  could  but  be  pleased  with  the  boy  who  loved 
his  father  so  heartily  as  to  come  a  hundred  miles 
and  more  to  bring  him  a  favorite  dish.  The  old 
sergeant  was  wholly  lost  in  joyful  emotions,  and 
alternately  laughed  and  wept. 

When  the  story  was  ended,  he  forgot  by  whom 
he  was  surrounded,  and  embraced  his  brave  son 
again  and  again,  pressed  hundreds  of  kisses  upon 
his  lips,  and  asked  him  many  questions,  all  of 
which  Fritz  answered  frankly. 

At  a  hint  from  the  general,  all  present  left  the 
tent,  and  the  enraptured  father  remained  with  his 
dear  boy.  An  hour  after,  the  general  came  back, 
and  gave  the  brave  old  sergeant  a  great  writing  in 
one  hand,  and  a  large  purse  full  of  gold  pieces  in 
the  other. 

"Here  is  your  discharge,*  friend,  with  a  promise 
of  your  full  pay  as  a  life-long  pension;  and  there 
is  a  small  present  for  your  worthy  son,  which  we 
officers  have  collected.  Keep  it  for  him  until  he  is 


FIFTH    READER.  41 

grown  and  can  make  good  use  of  it ;  and  now 
go  home  to  wife  and  children,  who  will  be 
greatly  rejoiced  to  see  husband  and  father  once 
more." 

"O  my  general,  your  GraceN  is  too  kind,"  stam- 
mered the  delighted  sergeant,  who  did  not  know 
at  what  to  rejoice  most— the  condescension  of  the 
officers,  or  the  pension,  or  the  wealth  of  his  son 
Fritz.  "How  have  I  earned  such  favor?" 

"By  your  brave  conduct  during  the  whole  cam- 
paign ;  by  the  wound  which  you  received  in  the 
last  battle,  and  which  disables  you  for  your  whole 
life-time ;  and  finally,  by  your  boy,  Soldier  Fritz. 

"In  him  I  have  seen  that  you  must  be  a  good 
father.  Such  a  one  our  king  can  better  use  at  home 
than  in  the  field.  Go  then  in  peace,  old  comrade, 
and  with  God's  help  train  all  your  boys  like  this 
one,  who  is  a  genuine,  true  soldier  child.  Farewell ! 
and  do  not  forget  to  send  Fritz  to  my  regiment 
when  he  is  large  enough  to  bear  arms  for  his  king." 

Translated  from  the  German,  by  J.  C.  PiCKARD. 

Notes.  — A  discharge  from  military  service  is  given  either  on 
account  of  old  age,  or  disability  for  service  from  wounds  or  ill- 
ness. A  discharge  ^vith  full  patj  as  a  pension  was  the  highest 
honor  that  could  be  given  for  faithful  service. 

Grace  is  a  term  of  respect  used  in  some  countries  in  address- 
ing those  of  very  high  rank. 

Elocution. —Point  out  the  inflections  used  in  the  third  and 
fourth  paragraphs  on  page  39. 

Mark  the  emphatic  words  in  the  last  paragraph  of  the  lesson. 

Language.— What  is  meant  by  the  following  — 

"A  favorite  dish."       "In  good  season." 

"A  faint  suspicion  of  the  truth  began  to  dawn  in  his  mind." 

Composition.  —  Select  six  points  in  the  story,  that  seem  to 
be  important,  and  use  them  as  an  outline  in  reproducing  the 
story  in  your  own  language. 


42  FIFTH     READER. 


3 — LITTLE      FEET. 


fut'ur^  (fut'yur),  time  to  come. 
al  lur^d',  tempted;  led  into  dan- 
ger. 
be  tra^d',  misled;  given  into  the 


maz'e§,  confusing  places. 

am  bl'tion  (bish'un),  desire  for 

office  or  honor. 
•ettl\,  pick  out. 
de  lud'ed,  led  into  error. 


Two  little  feet,  so  small  that  both,  may  nestle 

In  one  caressing  hand—  , 
Two  tender  feet  upon  the  untried  border 

Of  life's  mysterious  land. 
Dimpled,  and  soft,  and  pink  as  peach-tree  blossoms 

In  April's  fragrant  days — 
How  can  they  walk  among  the  briery  tangles, 

Edging  the  world's  rough  ways? 

Those  white-rose  feet,  along  the  doubtful  future, 

Must  bear  a  woman's  load : 
Alas!   since  woman  has  the  heaviest  burden, 

And  walks  the  hardest  road- 
Love  for  a  while  will  make  the  path  before  them 

All  dainty,  smooth,  and  fair ; 
Will  cull  away  the  brambles,  letting  only 

The  roses  blossom  there. 

But  when  the  mother's  watchful  eyes  are  shrouded 

Away  from  sight  of  men, 
And  these  dear  feet  are  left  without  her  guiding, 

Who  shall  direct  them  then? 
How  will  they  be  allured,  betrayed,  deluded— 

Poor  little  untaught  feet ! 
Into  what  dreary  mazes  will  they  wander? 

What  dangers  will  they  meet? 


FIFTH     READER.  43 

Will  they  go  stumbling  blindly  in  the  darkness 

Of  sorrow's  tearful  shades, 
Or  find  the  upland  slopes  of  peace  and  beauty, 

Where  sunlight  never  fades? 
Will  they  go  stumbling  up  ambition's  summit, 

The  common  world  above? 
Or  in  some  nameless  vale,  securely  sheltered, 

Walk  hand  in  hand  with  love? 

Some    feet    there    be    which    walk    life's    track    un- 
wounded, 

Which  find  but  pleasant  ways; 
Some  hearts  there  be,  to  which  this  life  is  only 

A  round  of  happy  days. 
But  they  are  few.     Far  more  there  are  who  wander 

Without  a  hope  or  friend— 
Who  find  their  journey  full  of  pains  and  losses, 

And  long  to  reach  the  end. 

How  shall  it  be  with  her,  the  tender  stranger, 

Fair-faced  and  gentle-eyed, 

Before  whose  unstained  feet  the  world's  rude  high- 
way 

Stretches  so  strange  and  wide? 
Ah,  who  may  read  the  future?     For  our  darling 

We  crave  all  blessings  sweet— 
And  pray  that  He  who  feeds  the  crying  ravens, 

Will  guide  the  baby's  feet. 

FLORENCE  PERCY. 


Biography.  — Florence  Percy  (Mrs.  Elizabeth  Akers  Allen)  was 
born  in  1832,  in  the  town  of  Strong,  Maine.  At  an  early  age, 
the  death  of  her  mother  cast  a  gloom  over  her  young  life.  The 
effects  of  her  bereavement  may  be  noticed  in  an  undertone  of 
sadness  throughout  her  writings. 


44  FIFTH     READER. 


Mrs.  Allen's  career  as  a  writer  began  at  a  very  early  age, 
with  the  publication  of  some  verses.  The  enviable  popularity 
to  which  she  has  attained,  is  due  to  a  tenderness  and  grace  of 
style,,  which  loses  none  of  its  charm  even  in  the  treatment  of 
homely  subjects. 

Elocution.  — What  is  the  feeling  or  sentiment  expressed  in  this 
poem?  With  what  tone  of  voice  should  it  be  read?  What  time 
and  force  should  be  used? 

The  articulation  should  be  clear  and  crisp. 

Point  out  three  or  four  cases  in  the  poem  where  certain  words 
receive  emphasis  through  repetition. 

Show  the  changes  in  inflection  due  to  contrasts  in  the  fourth 
stanza. 

Language.  — Explain  the  meaning  of  the  following  — 

"The  untried  borders  of  life's  mysterious  land." 

"The  mother's  eyes  are  shrouded  away  from  sight  of  men." 

Composition.  — Make  each  stanza  the  basis  of  a  paragraph,  and 
treat  the  subject  in  prose  form. 

Notice  the  changes  that  must  be  made  in  turning  the  poetry 
into  prose:— (1.)  In  the  words  used.  (2.)  The  arrangement  of 
words  in  the  sentences. 


.— MALIBRAN    AND    THE    YOUNG    MUSICIAN. 


pftb'lish  er,  one  who  sends  abook 

or  writing  into  the  world. 
•ero\vn ,  a  piece  of  money,  in  value 

a  little  more  than  $1.20. 
Itix'u  ry  (luk'shu  17),  any  thing 

delightful  to  the  senses. 
rlv'et  ed,  fixed. 
my!0'!  ad,  a  very  great  number. 

In  a  humble  room,  in  one  of  the  poorest  streets 
of  London,  little  Pierre,N  a  fatherless  French  boy, 
sat  humming  by  the  bedside  of  his  sick  mother. 
There  was  no  bread  in  the  closet,  and  for  the  whole 
day  he  had  not  tasted  food.  Yet  he  sat  humming 
to  keep  up  his  spirits.  Still,  at  times,  he  thought 


pound§,    English    money,   each 
pound  equals  about  $4-$4- 

a«  -e6m'plish^d,  educated;  care- 
fully trained. 

tal'  ent  ed,  possessing  great  skill 
in  any  direction. 

station,  condition  of  life. 

d  (dand),  condescended. 


FIFTH    READER.  4S 

of  Ms  loneliness  and  hunger,  and  he  could  scarcely 
keep  the  tears  from  his  eyes;  for  he  knew  nothing 
would  be  so  grateful  to  his  poor,  sick  mother  as  a 
good,  sweet  orange— and  yet  he  had  not  a  penny  in 
the  world. 

The  little  song  he  was  singing  was  his  own,— 
one  he  had  composed  with  air  and  words ;  tor  the 
child  was  a  genius. 

He  went  to  the  window,  and  looking  out,  saw  a 
man  putting  up  a  great  bill  with  yellow  letters, 
announcing  that  Madame  Malibran  would  sing  that 
night  in  public. 

"  If  I  could  only  go,"  thought  little  Pierre ;  and 
then,  pausing  a  moment,  he  clasped  his  hands.  His 
eyes  lighted  with  a  new  hope.  Running  to  the 
little  stand,  he  smoothed  down  his  yellow  curls, 
and  taking  from  a  little  box  some  old  stained  paper, 
gave  one  eager  glance  at  his  mother,  who  slept,  and 
ran  speedily  from  the  house. 

************ 

"  Who  did  you  say  is  waiting  for  me  ? "  said 
the  lady  to  her  servant.  "I  am  already  worn  out 
with  company." 

"It  is  only  a  very  pretty  little  boy  with  yellow 
curls,  who  says  if  he  can  see  you  he  is  sure  you 
will  not  be  sorry,  and  he  will  not  keep  you  a  mo- 
ment." 

"Well,  let  him  come,"  said  the  beautiful  singer, 
with  a  smile;  "I  can  never  refuse  children." 

Little  Pierre  came  in,  his  hat  under  his  arm, 
and  in  his  hand  a  little  roll  of  paper.  With  man- 
liness unusual  for  a  child,  he  walked  straight  to 
the  lady,  and  bowing,  said :  "  I  come  to  see  you 
because  my  mother  is  very  si  ok,  and  we  are  too 


46  FIFTH    READER. 

poor  to  get  food  and  medicine.  I  thought  that 
if  you  would  only  sing  my  little  song  at  some  of 
your  grand  concerts,  perhaps  some  publisher  would 
buy  it  for  a  small  sum,  and  so  I  could  get  food 
and  medicine  for  my  mother." 

The  beautiful  woman  rose  from  her  seat,— very 
tall  and  stately  she  was,— took  the  little  roll  from 
his  hand,  and  lightly  hummed  the  air. 

"Did  you  compose  it?"  she  asked,— "you,  a  child? 
And  the  words  ?  —  Would  you  like  to  come  to 
my  concert?"  she  asked,  after  a  few  moments  of 
thought. 

"O  yes!"  and  the  boy's  eyes  grew  bright  with 
happiness,— "  but  I  couldn't  leave  my  mother." 

"I  will  send  somebody  to  take  care  of  your 
mother  for  the  evening;  and  here  is  a  crown,  with 
which  you  may  go  and  get  food  and  medicine. 
Here  is  also  one  of  my  tickets ;  come  to-night ;  that 
will  admit  you  to  a  seat  near  me." 

Pierre  could  scarcely  realize  his  good  fortune. 
He  bought  some  oranges,  and  many  a  little  luxury 
besides,  and  carried  them  home  to  the  poor  invalid, 
telling  her,  not  without  tears,  of  what  had  hap- 
pened. 

When%  evening  came,  and  Pierre  was  admitted 
to  the  concert-hall,  he  felt  that  never  in  his  life 
had  he  been  in  so  grand  a  place.  The  music,  the 
myriad  lights,  the  beauty,  the  flashing  of  diamonds 
and  rustling  of  silks,  bewildered  his  eyes  and  brain. 

At  last  she  came,  and  the  child  sat  with  his 
eyes  riveted  upon  her  glorious  face.  Could  he  be- 
lieve that  the  grand  lady,  all  blazing  with  jewels, 
and  whom  everybody  seemed  to  worship,  would 
really  sing  his  little  song? 


FIFTH    READER.  47 

Breathless  he  waited.  The  band— the  whole  band, 
struck  up  a  little  plaintive  melody ;  he  knew  it, 
and  clapped  his  hands  for  joy.  And,  O,  how  she 
sung  it!  It  was  so  simple,  so  mournful,  so  soul- 
subduing—many  a  bright  eye  dimmed  with  tears; 
and  naught  could  be  heard  but  the  touching  words 
of  that  little  song— O,  so  touching! 

Pierre  walked  home  as  if  he  were  walking  on  the 
air.  What  cared  he  for  money  now?  The  greatest 
singer  in  all  Europe  had  sung  his  little  song,  and 
thousands  had  wept  at  his  grief. 

The  next  day,  he  was  frightened  at  a  visit  from 
Madame  Malibran.  She  laid  her  hand  on  his  yel- 
low curls,  and  turning  to  the  sick  woman,  said: 
"Your  little  boy,  madam,  has  brought  you  a  for- 
tune. I  was  offered,  this  morning,  by  the  best  pub- 
lisher in  London,  three  hundred  pounds  for  his 
little  song;  and  after  he  has  realized  a  certain 
amount  from  the  sale,  little  Pierre,  here,  is  to  share 
the  profits.  Madam,  thank  God  that  your  son  has 
a  gift  from  Heaven." 

The  noble-hearted  singer  and  the  poor  woman 
wept  together.  As  to  Pierre— always  mindful  of  Him 
who  watches  over  the  tried  and  tempted—he  knelt 
down  by  his  mother's  bedside  and  uttered  a  simple 
but  eloquent  prayer,  asking  God's  blessing  on  the 
kind  lady  who  had  deigned  to  notice  their  afflic- 
tion. 

The  memory  of  that  prayer  made  the  singer 
even  more  tender-hearted;  and  she  who  was  the 
idol  of  England's  nobility  went  about  doing  good. 
And  in  her  early,  happy  death,  he  who  stood  by 
her  bed,  smoothed  her  pillow,  and  lightened  her 
last  moments  by  his  undying  affection,  was  the 


48  FIFTH     READER. 

little  Pierre  of  former  days,— now  rich,  accomplished, 
and  the  most  talented  composerNof  the  day. 

All  honor  to  those  great  hearts,  who,  from  their 
high  station,  send  down  bounty  to  the  widow,  and 
to  the  fatherless  child. 


Biography.  —  Madame  Malibran,  the  celebrated  vocalist,  was 
"born  in  Paris,  in  1808.  While  she  was  still  very  young,  her 
reputation  as  a  singer  extended  over  Europe,  and  she  was  every- 
where received  with  the  greatest  enthusiasm.  The  admiration 
which  she  won  as  a  vocalist,  was  increased  by  the  many  kind 
acts  done  by  her  in  private  life.  Her  generosity  was  remark- 
able, and  the  large  sums  of  money  "which  she  gained  were  ex- 
pended in  works  of  benevolence.  Her  early  death,  in  1836,  was 
universally  deplored. 

Notes.  —  Pierre  is  a  French  name,  corresponding  to  our  name 
Peter. 

The  term  composer  is  applied  only  to  authors  of  musical  com- 
positions. 

Elocution.  — In  what  manner  should  the  descriptive  parts  of 
the  lesson  be  read?  — the  conversational?  How  many  different 
persons  are  introduced  as  speakers?  The  words  of  each  person 
should  be  delivered  in  such  a  manner  as  to  express  the  feelings 
with  which  they  were  uttered. 

What  different  feelings  or  sentiments  receive  expression  in 
the  lesson  ? 

Language.  — In  the  sentence  —  "Thousands  had  wept  at  his  grief/' 
if  the  word  thousands  is  thought  to  convey  a  meaning  greater 
than  the  truth,  we  say  that  it  is  an  example  of  hyperbole  or 
exaggeration. 

"As  if  walking  on  the  air"  means  that  the  happy  feelings  of 
Pierre  made  him  forgetful  of  the  effort  of  walking.  The  expres- 
sion is  both  a  comparison  and  hyperbole. 

Since  the  meaning  we  give  to  the  words  used  in  the  above 
comparison  is  different  from  what  would  usually  be  given  to 
them,  the  words  are  said  to  be  employed  in  a  figurative  sense. 

Figures  of  comparison  are  of  two  kinds:  1.  Sim'ile,  when  an 
introductory  word  such  as  like,  as,  or  similar  words,  is  employed  ; 
2.  Met/a  phor,  when  the  introductory  word  is  omitted. 

Composition.  — Select  four  points  in  the  story,  that  are  of  spe- 
cial importance,  and  treat  them  in  your  own  language. 
What  constitutes  a  paragraph  in  writing  prose? 
Does  conversation  come  under  the  rules  for  paragraphing  ? 


FIFTH    READER. 


49 


6.  —  ANECDOTES     ABOUT     ANTS. 

PA  RT      I. 


•e^lo'ro  formed,  rendered  sense- 
less by  chloroform. 
an  tSn'ncSe,  feelers  of  insects. 
at'  ti  tud^§,  positions. 
spl'  ral,  winding. 
In  dl  vld'u  al,  a  single  one. 
•eom  mu'ni  -eat^,  make  known. 


-eon  denied',  sentenced  to  pun- 
ishment. 

re  §ist' an9^,  opposition. 

ex  pe"l\^d',  forced  out. 

•eom  mu/ni  ty,  a  collection  of 
persons  having  common  rights. 

In'va  lid,  feeble;  weak. 


The  behavior  of  ants  toward  one  another  differs 
much,  according  to  circumstances— whether,  for  in- 
stance, they  are  alone,  or  supported  by  friends.  An 
ant  which  would  run  away  in  the  first  case,  will 
defend  itself  bravely  in  the  second. 

On  one  occasion,  several  ants  belonging  to  one 
of  my  nests  were  feeding  on  some  honey  spread 
on  a  slip  of  glass.N  One  of  them  had  got  thoroughly 
entangled  in  it.  I  took  her  and  put  her  down  just 
in  front  of  another  individual  belonging  to  the 
same  nest,  and  close  by  I  placed  a  drop  of  honey. 

The  ant  devoted  herself  to  the  honey  and  en- 
tirely neglected  her  friend,  whom  she  left  to  perish. 
I  then  chloroformed  one,  and  put  her  on  the  board 
among  her  friends.  Several  touched  her,  but  while 
I  watched  them  for  two  or  three  hours,  none  took 
any  particular  notice  of  her. 

On  the  other  hand,  I  have  only  on  one  occasion 
seen  a  living  ant  expelled  from  her  nest.  I  observed 
once  an  ant  carrying  another  belonging  to  the 
same  community  away  from  the  nest.  The  con- 
demned ant  made  a  very  feeble  resistance. 

The  first  ant  carried  her  burden  hither  and 
thither  for  some  time,  evidently  trying  to  get  away 


SO  FIFTH     READER. 

from  the  nest,  which  was  enclosed  by  a  barrier  of 
far.  After  watching  for  some  time,  I  provided  the 
ant  with  a  paper  bridge,  up  which  she  immediately 
went,  dropped  her  victim  on  the  far  side,  and  re- 
turned home.  Could  this  have  been  a  case  in  which 
an  aged  or  invalid  ant  was  being  expelled  from 
the  nest? 

In  order  to  test  the  affection  of  ants  belonging 
to  the  same  nest  for  one  another,  I  made  the  fol- 
lowing experiments.  I  took  six  ants  from  one  of 
my  nests  and  imprisoned  them  in  a  bottle,  one 
end  of  which  was  covered  with  a  layer  of  muslin. 
I  then  put  the  muslin  close  to  the  door  of  the 
nest.  The  muslin  *was  of  open  texture,  the  meshes, 
however,  being  sufficiently  small  to  prevent  the 
ants  from  escaping.  They  could  not  only  see  one 
another,  but  could  also  communicate  freely  with 
their  antennae. 

We  now  watched  to  see  whether  the  prisoners 
would  be  tended  or  fed  by  their  friends.  We  could 
not  see,  however,  that  the  least  notice  was  taken 
of  them.  The  experiment,  nevertheless,  was  less 
conclusive  than  could  be  wished,  because  they 
might  have  been  fed  at  night,  or  at  some  time 
when  we  were  not  looking.  It  struck  me,  therefore, 
that  it  would  be  interesting  to  treat  some  strangers 
also  in  the  same  manner. 

Accordingly,  I  put  two  ants  from  one  of  my 
nests  into  a  bottle,  the  end  of  which  was  tied  up 
with  muslin,  as  described,  and  laid  it  down  close 
to  the  nest.  In  a  second  bottle  I  put  two  ants 
from  another  nest  of  the  same  species.  The  ants 
which  were  at  liberty  took  no  notice  of  the  bottle 
containing  their  imprisoned  friends.  The  strangers 


FIFTH    READER.  SI 

in  the  other  bottle,  on  the  contrary,  excited  them 
considerably. 

The  whole  day,  one,  two,  or  more  ants  stood 
sentry,  as  it  were,  over  the  bottle.  In  the  evening 
no  less  than  twelve  were  collected  around  it— a 
larger  number  than  usually  came  out  of  the  nest 
at  any  one  time.  The  whole  of  the  next  two  days, 
in  the  same  way,  there  were  several  ants  round 
the  bottle  containing1  the  strangers;  while,  as  far  as 
we  could  see,  no  notice  whatever  was  taken  of  the 
friends. 

Seven  days  after,  the  ants  had  eaten  through 
the  muslin  and  effected  an  entrance.  We  did  not 
chance  to  be  on  the  spot  at  the  moment;  but  as  I 
found  two  ants  lying  dead— one  in  the  bottle  and 
one  just  outside — I  think  that  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  the  strangers  were  put  to  death.  The  friends 
throughout  were  quite  neglected. 

In  one  of  my  nests,  was  an  ant  without  antennse. 
Never  having  previously  met  with  such  a  case,  1 
watched  her  with  great  interest;  but  she  never 
appeared  to  leave  the*  nest.  At  length,  one  day,  I 
found  her  wandering  about  in  an  aimless  sort  of 
manner,  and  apparently  not  knowing  her  way  at 
all.  After  a  while  she  fell  in  with  some  specimens 
of  the  little  yellow  ant,  that  directly  attacked  her. 

I  at  once  set  myself  to  separate  them ;  but  owing 
either  to  the  wounds  she  had  received  from  her 
enemies,  or  to  my  rough  though  well-meant  hand- 
ling, or  to  both,  she  was  evidently  much  wounded, 
and  lay  helplessly  on  the  ground.  After  some  time 
another  ant  from  her  nest  came  by.  She  examined 
the  poor  sufferer  carefully,  then  picked  her  up 
gently  and  carried  her  away  into  the  nest.  It 


62  FIFTH    READER. 

would  have  been  difficult  for  any  one  who  wit- 
nessed this  scene  to  have  denied  to  this  ant  the 
possession  of  humane  feelings. 

Again,  on  another  occasion,  I  perceived  a  poor 
ant  lying  on  her  hack  and  quite  unable  to  move. 
The  legs  were  in  cramped  attitudes,  and  the  two 
antennae  rolled  up  in  spirals.  She  was,  of  course, 
altogether  unable  to  feed  herself.  After  this  I  kept 
my  eyes  on  her.  Several  times  I  tried  uncovering 
the  part  of  the  nest  where  she  was.  The  other 
ants  soon  carried  her  into  the  shaded  part. 

One  day  the  ants  were  all  out  of  the  nest,  prob- 
ably for  fresh  air,  and  had  collected  together  in  a 
corner  of  the  box ;  they  had  not,  however,  forgotten 
her,  but  had  carried  her  with  them.  I  took  off  the 
glass  lid  of  the  box,  and  after  a  while  they  returned 
as  usual  to  the  nest,  taking  her  in  again.  The  next 
day  she  was  still  alive,  but  shortly  afterward,  not- 
withstanding all  their  care,  she  died. 

At  the  present  time  I  have  two  other  ants  per- 
fectly crippled  in  a  similar  manner,  so  that  they 
are  quite  unable  to  move ;  but  they  have  been 
tended  and  fed  by  their  companions,  the  one  for 
five,  the  other  for  four  months. 


Notes.  —  A.  slip  of  glass  means  a  long,  narrow  piece  of  glass. 
The  word  slip  has  as  many  as  fifteen  different  meanings  in  this 
country.  Mention  four  of  the  different  uses  of  the  word,  explain- 
ing the  meaning  of  each. 

Elocution.  — Point  out  the  inflections  in  the  last  three  lines  of 
the  first  paragraph,  and  state  the  purpose  for  which  they  are 
employed. 

Language.  —  Explain  the  meaning  of  figures  of  comparison  in 
the  following  sentences,  and  state  whether  they  are  metaphors  or 
similes. 

"One,  two,  or  more  ants  stood  sentry." 
Did  not  this  ant  possess  humane  feelings? 


FIFTH    READER.  53 

.  — ANECDOTES     ABOUT     ANTS. 

PA  RT      II. 


Is'o  lat  ed,  placed  by  itself. 

de  vdl'op^d,  formed  by  natural 

growth. 
lar'v^e,    insects  which  liaw  just 

left  the  egg. 

,  a  ditch. 
mold,  soft  earth. 
•eap'il  la  ry,  fine,  like  a  hair. 


im  mers^d',  dipped. 

at  tra-e'tion,  the  act  of  drawing 

toward. 
mln'i  miz^,  reduce  to  the  smallest 

amount. 

ex  pe'di  ent,  means. 
In'ter  po§^',  put  between. 
ac  965^1  bl^,  easy  to  get  at. 


I  liave  made  a  number  of  experiments  on  the 
power  of  smell  possessed  by  ants.  I  dipped  camel's- 
hair  brushes  into  peppermint  -  water,  essence  of 
cloves,  lavender-water,  and  other  strong  scents,  and 
suspended  them  about  a  quarter  of  an  inch  above 
the  strips  of  paper  along  which  the  ants  were  pass- 
ing in  the  experiments  before  recorded. 

Under  these  circumstances,  while  some  of  the 
ants  passed  on  without  taking  any  notice,  others 
stopped  when  they  came  close  to  the  pencil,  and 
evidently  perceiving  the  smell,  turned  back.  Soon, 
however,  they  returned  and  passed  the  scented  pencil. 
After  doing  this  two  or  three  times,  they  generally 
took  no  further  notice  of  the  scent. 

This  experiment  left  no  doubt  on  my  mind ; 
still,  to  make  the  matter  even  more  clear,  I  ex- 
perimented with  ants  placed  on  an  isolated  strip 
of  paper.  Over  the  paper,  and  at  such  a  distance 
as  almost,  but  not  quite,  to  touch  any  ant  which 
passed  under  it,  I  again  suspended  a  camel's-hair 
brush  dipped  in  lavender-water,  essence  of  cloves, 
and  other  scents. 

In    these    experiments    the    results    were    very 


84  FIFTH    READER. 

marked ;  and  no  one  who  watched  the  behavior  of 
the  ants,  under  these  circumstances,  could  have  the 
slightest  doubt  as  to  their  power  of  smell. 

I  then  took  a  large  queen  ant  and  fastened  her 
on  a  board  by  a  thread.  When  she  had  become 
quiet,  I  tried  her  with  some  tuning-forks,N  but  they 
did  not  disturb  her  in  the  least.  I  then  advanced 
a  feather  very  quietly,  so  as  almost  to  touch  first 
one,  and  then  the  other  of  the  antennae,  which, 
however,  did  not  move. 

I  then  dipped  the  pencil  in  essence  of  musk  and 
tried  again ;  the  antenna  was  slowly  drawn  back. 
I  then  repeated  the  same  with  the  other  antenna. 
If  I  touched  the  antenna,  the  ant  started  away 
apparently  smarting.  I  then  experimented  with 
essence  of  lavender,  and  with  a  second  ant.  The 
results  were  the  same  as  before. 

Many  of  my  other  experiments  point  to  the  same 
conclusion;  and,  in  fact,  there  can  be  no  doubt 
whatever  that  in  ants  the  sense  of  smell  is  highly 
developed. 

In  order  to  test  the  intelligence  of  ants,  it  has 
always  seemed  to  me  that  there  was  no  better  way 
than  to  ascertain  some  object  which  they  would 
clearly  desire,  and  then  to  interpose  some  obstacle 
which  a  little  ingenuity  would  enable  them  to  over- 
come. I  therefore  placed  some  larvae  in  a  cup,  which 
I  put  on  a  slip  of  glass  surrounded  by  water,  but 
accessible  to  the  ants  by  only  one  pathway,  in  which 
was  a  bridge  consisting  of  a  strip  of  paper  two- 
thirds  of  an  inch  long  and  one-third  of  an  inch 
wide. 

Having  then  put  a  black  ant  from  one  of  my 
nests  near  these  larvae  she  began  carrying1  them  off, 


FIFTH    READER.  SB 

and  by  degrees  a  number  of  friends  came  to  help 
her.  I  then,  when  about  twenty-five  ants  were  so 
engaged,  moved  the  little  paper  bridge  slightly,  so 
as  to  leave  a  chasm  just  so  wide  that  the  ants 
could  not  reach  across.  They  came  and  tried  hard 
to  do  so ;  but  it  did  not  occur  to  them  to  push 
the  paper  bridge,  though  the  distance  was  only 
about  one-third  of  an  inch,  and  they  might  easily 
have  done  so.  After  trying  for  about  a  quarter  of 
an  hour,  they  gave  up  the  attempt  and  returned 
home.  This  I  repeated  several  times. 

Then  thinking  that  paper  was  a  substance  to 
which  they  were  not  accustomed,  I  tried  the  same 
with  a  bit  of  straw  one  inch  long  and  one-eighth 
of  an  inch  wide.  The  result  was  the  same.  I  re- 
peated this  more  than  once. 

Again,  I  suspended  some  honey  over  a  nest  of 
yellow  ants,  at  a  height  of  about  half  an  inch,  and 
accessible  only  by  a  paper  bridge  more  than  ten 
feet  long.  Under  the  glass  I  then  placed  a  small 
heap  of  earth.  The  ants  soon  swarmed  over  the 
earth  on  to  the  glass,  and  began  feeding  on  the 
honey.  I  then  removed  a  little  of  the  earth,  so 
that  there  was  an  interval  of  about  one-third  of 
an  inch  between  the  glass  and  the  earth;  but 
though  the  distance  was  so  small,  they  would  not 
jump  down,  but  preferred  to  go  down  by  the  long 
bridge.  , 

They  tried  in  vain  to  stretch  up  from  the  earth 
to  the  glass,  which,  however,  was  just  out  of  their 
reach,  though  they  could  touch  it  with  their  an- 
tennae; but  it  did  not  occur  to  them  to  heap  the 
earth  up  a  little,  though  if  they  had  moved  only 
half  a  dozen  particles,  they  would  have  secured  for 


86  FIFTH    READER. 

themselves  direct  access  to  the  food.  At  length,  they 
gave  up  all  attempts  to  reach  up  to  the  glass,  and 
went  around  by  the  paper  bridge.  I  left  the  ar- 
rangement for  several  weeks,  but  they  continued  to 
go  round  by  the  long  paper  bridge. 

Again  I  varied  the  experiment  as  follows:  Hav- 
ing left  a  nest  without  food  for  a  short  time,  I 
placed  some  honey  on  a  small  piece  of  wood,  sur- 
rounded by  a  little  moat  of  glycerine  half  an  inch 
wide  and  about  one-tenth  of  an  inch  in  depth. 
Over  this  moat  I  then  placed  a  paper  bridge,  one 
end  of  which  rested  on  some  fine  mold.  I  then 
put  an  ant  to  the  honey,  and  soon  a  little  crowd 
was  collected  round  it. 

I  then  removed  the  paper  bridge ;  the  ants  could 
not  cross  the  glycerine ;  they  came  to  the  edge 
and  walked  round  and  round,  but  were  unable  to 
get  across,  nor  did  it  occur  to  them  to  make  a 
bridge  or  bank  of  the  mold  which  I  had  placed 
so  conveniently  for  them.  I  was  the  more  sur- 
prised at  this,  on  account  of  the  ingenuity  with 
which  they  avail  themselves  of  earth  for  construct- 
ing their  nests. 

For  instance,  wishing,  if  possible,  to  avoid  the 
trouble  of  frequently  moistening  the  earth  in  my 
nests,  I  supplied  one  of  my  communities  with  a 
frame  containing,  instead  of  earth  a  piece  of  linen, 
one  portion  of  which  projected  beyond  the  frame 
and  was  immersed  in  water.  The  linen  then  sucked 
up  the  water  by  capillary  attraction,  and  thus  the 
air  in  the  frames  was  kept  moist. 

The  ants  approved  of  this  arrangement  and  took 
up  their  quarters  in  the  frame.  To  minimize  evapo- 
ration, I  usually  closed  the  frame  all  round,  leav- 


FIFTH    READER.  87 

ing  only  one  or  two  small  openings  for  the  ants ; 
but,  in  this  case,  I  left  the  outer  side  of  the  frame 
open. 

The  ants,  however,  did  not  like  "being  thus  ex- 
posed ;  they  therefore  brought  earth  from  some  little 
distance,  and  "built  up  a  regular  wall  along  the  open 
side,  blocking  up  the  space  between  the  upper  and 
lower  plates  of  glass,  and  leaving  only  one  or  two 
small  openings  for  themselves.  This  struck  me  as 
very  ingenious.  The  same  expedient  was,  moreover, 
repeated  under  similar  circumstances  by  the  slaves 
belonging  to  my  nest  of  Amazon  ants. 

SIR  JOHN  LUBBOCK. 


Biography. —Sir  John  Lubbock,  the  eminent  English  physicist, 
was  born  in  London  in  1834.  He  is  a  graduate  of  Eton  College. 

The  results  he  has  achieved  in  his  special  work,  and  his  charm- 
ing style  as  a  writer,  have  combined  to  render  him  a  very  popu- 
lar author.  He  has  contributed  largely  to  various  publications, 
writing  upon  the  subjects  to  which  he  has  given  special  atten- 
tion. Among  the  works  of  which  he  is  the  author  may  be 
mentioned  the  following— "  Prehistoric  Times,  as  illustrated  by  the 
remains  of  ancient  times,  and  the  customs  of  modern  savages," 
"The  Origin  of  Civilization,"  and  "The  Origin  and  Metamor- 
phoses of  Insects." 

Questions.  — A  tuning-fork  is  a  two-pronged  steel  instrument 
used  to  give  a  certain  fixed  tone.  For  what  purpose  was  it  used 
with  the  ants?  Of  what  is  lavender-water  composed?  What  is 
glycerine  ? 

How  many  senses  have  we  ?  What  are  they  called  ?  How 
many  of  these  senses  do  the  experiments  described  prove  that 
ants  possess? 

What  is  shown  in  the  last  lesson  as  to  the  intelligence  of 
ants? 

Elocution.  — To  render  the  delivery  of  selections  like  the  last 
two  lessons  effective,  the  reading  should  be  somewhat  slower 
than  in  conversation,  and  the  articulation  distinct,  even  to  a 
greater  degree  than  would  ordinarily  be  thought  essential. 

Composition.  — Select  three  points  in  regard  to  ants,  and  treat 
each  one  of  them  in  a  single  paragraph. 


88  FIFTH    READER. 


7.  — WHAT     I     LIVE     FOR. 


mar'  tyr§  (tiirs),  those  who  suffer 
loss  or  even  die  for  a  good  cause. 

bardg,  poets. 

pa'  tri  ots,  persons  who  love  their 
country. 

as  sl^n^d',  pointed  out. 
'  u  lat^,  strive  to  equal. 


•eom  mun'ion(kSmmun'yiin), 
intercourse. 

di  vin^',  godlike;  Jieaverily. 

•eon  vl-e'tion,  strong  belief  aris- 
ing from  proof  . 

sa'ge§,  wise  men. 

f I-e'  tion,  that  which  is  imagined. 


I  live  for  those  who  love  me, 

Whose  hearts  are  kind  and  true ; 
For  the  heaven  that  smiles  above  me, 

And  awaits  my  spirit  too; 

For  all  human  ties  that  bind  me, 

For  the  task  by  Q-od  assigned  me, 

For  the  hopes  not  left  behind  me, 

And  the  good  that  I  can  do. 

I  live  to  learn  their  story 

Who've  suffered  for  my  sake; 

To  emulate  their  glory, 

And  follow  in  their  wake ; 

Bards,  patriots,  martyrs,  sages, 

The  noble  of  all  ages, 

Whose  deeds  crown  history's  pages, 
And  time's  great  volLime  make. 

I  live  to  hold  communion 

With  all  that  is  divine; 
To  feel  there  is  a  union 

'Twixt  nature's  heart  and  mine; 
To  profit  by  affliction, 
Heap  truths  from  fields  of  fiction, 
Grow  wiser  from  conviction, 

And  fulfill  each  grand  design. 


FIFTH    READER.  69 

I  live  to  hail  that  season 

By  gifted  minds  foretold, 
When  men  shall  live  by  reason, 

And  not  alone  by  gold ; 
When  man  to  man  united, 
And  every  wrong  thing  righted, 
The  whole  world  shall  "be  lighted 

As  Eden  was  of  old. 

I  live  for  those  who  love  me, 
For  those  who  know  me  true; 

For  the  heaven  that  smiles  above  me, 
And  awaits  my  spirit,  too; 

For  the  cause  that  lacks  assistance, 

For  the  wrong  that  needs  resistance, 

For  the  future  in  the  distance, 
And  the  good  that  I  can  do. 

G.  LINNAEUS  BANKS. 


Elocution. — "With  what  tone  of  voice  should  this  poem  be  read? 
What  rate  and  force  should  be  used? 

The  peculiar  double  rhyme  at  the  close  of  the  first  and  third, 
and  of  the  fifth,  sixth  and  seventh  lines,  increases  a  tendency  to 
sing-song,  which  must  be  carefully  avoided. 

The  only  lines  to  be  closely  joined  in  the  reading  occur  in 
the  third  and  fourth  stanzas. 

Mark  the  inflections  that  should  be  used  in  the  first  and  last 
stanzas. 

Language.— In  the  expression  follow  in  their  wake,  the  com- 
parison introduces  the  term  wake,  which  means  the  track  left 
by  a  ship ;  as  a  track  upon  the  surface  of  water  can  last  only 
for  a  few  moments,  the  expression  really  means  — follow  them 
closely. 

As  Eden  was  of  old  Is  an  example  of  what  figure  of  com' 
parison  ? 

Composition.  — Select  six  points,  without  regard  to  arrange- 
ment of  stanzas,  that  would  fairly  cover  the  thoughts  contained 
in  the  poem,  and  then  use  them  in  treating  the  subject  in  prose 
form. 


6O  FIFTH    READER. 

£.  — BENJAMIN     WEST. 

PART      I. 


,  active  interest;  eagerness  in 
favor  of  a  person  or  cause. 
va'  ri  e  gat  ed,  having  different 
colors. 


l,  woful;  mournful. 
im  psr'ti  neii9^,  rudeness. 

a  bi^§,  songs  to  quiet  Idbies. 


dex'ter  §tis  ly,  quickly;  skill- 
fully. 

phy§  i  Sg'no  my  (fiz),  face  or 
countenance. 

an'  £es  tor§,  those  from  whom  a 
person  descends. 

pr6ph'esl^d  (prof ),  foretold. 


In  the  year  1738,  there  was  born  in  the  town 
of  Springfield,  Pennsylvania,  an  infant,  who  was 
named  Benjamin  West,  and  from  whom  his  parents 
and  neighbors  looked  for  wonderful  things. 

An  aged  preacher,  a  friend  of  his  parents,  had 
prophesied  about  this  child  and  foretold  that  he 
would  be  one  of  the  most  remarkable  characters 
that  had  appeared  on  the  earth  since  the  days  of 
William  Penn. 

Little  Ben  lived  to  the  ripe  age  of  six  years 
without  doing  any  thing  that  was  worthy  to  be 
told  in  history.  But  one  summer  afternoon,  in  his 
seventh  year,  his  mother  put  a  fan  into  his  hand 
and  bade  him  keep  the  flies  away  from  the  face  of 
a  little  child  who  lay  fast  asleep  in  the  cradle. 
She  then  left  the  room. 

The  boy  waved  the  fan  to  and  fro  and  drove  away 
the  buzzing  flies  whenever  they  had  the  imper- 
tinence to  come  near  the  baby's  face.  When  they 
had  all  flown  out  of  the  window  or  into  distant 
parts  of  the  room,  he  bent  over  the  cradle  and  de- 
lighted himself  with  gazing  at  the  sleeping  infant. 

It  was,  indeed,   a  very  pretty   sight.     The   little 


FIFTH    READER.  61 

pei-sonage  in  the  cradle  slumbered  peacefully,  with 
its  waxen  hands  under  its  chin,  looking  as  full  of 
blissful  quiet  as  if  angels  were  singing  lullabies  in 
its  ear.  Indeed,  it  must  have  been  dreaming  about 
heaven ;  for,  while  Ben  stooped  over  the  cradle,  the 
little  baby  smiled. 

"How  beautiful  she  looks!"  said  Ben  to  himself. 
"What  a  pity  it  is  that  such  a  pretty  smile  should 
not  last  forever!" 

ISTow  Ben,  at  this  period  of  his  life,  had  never 
heard  of  that  wonderful  art  by  which  a  look,  that 
appears  and  vanishes  in  a  moment,  may  be  made 
to  last  for.  hundreds  of  years.  But,  though  nobody 
had  told  him  of  such  an  art,  he  may  be  said  to 
have  invented  it  for  himself. 

On  a  table  near  at  hand,  there  were  pens  and 
paper,  and  ink  of  two  colors,  black  and  red.  The 
boy  seized  a  pen  and  sheet  of  paper,  and,  kneeling 
down  beside  the  cradle,  began  to  draw  a  likeness 
of  the  infant.  While  he  was  busied  in  this  manner, 
he  heard  his  mother's  step  approaching,  and  hastily 
tried  to  conceal  the  paper. 

"Benjamin,  my  son,  what  hast  thou  been  do- 
ing?" inquired  his  mother,  observing  marks  of 
confusion  in  his  face. 

At  first,  Ben  was  unwilling  to  tell;  for  he  felt 
as  if  there  might  be  something  wrong  in  stealing 
the  baby's  face  and  putting  it  upon  a  sheet  of 
paper.  However,  as  his  mother  insisted,  he  finally 
put  the  sketch  into  her  hand,  and  then  hung  his 
head,  expecting  to  be  well  scolded.  But,  when  the 
good  lady  saw  what  was  on  the  paper,  in  lines  of 
red  and  black  ink,  she  uttered  a  scream  of  surprise 
and  joy. 


62  FIFTH    READER. 

"Bless  me!"  cried  she.  "It  is  a  picture  of  little 
Sally ! " 

And  then  she  threw  her  arms  around  Benjamin, 
and  kissed  him  so  tenderly  that  he  never  afterward 
was  afraid  to  show  his  performances  to  his  mother. 

As  Ben  grew  older,  he  was  observed  to  take  vast 
delight  in  looking  at  the  hues  and  forms  of  nature. 
For  instance,  he  was  greatly  pleased  with  the  blue 
violets  of  spring,  the  wild  roses  of  summer,  and  the 
scarlet  cardinal-no wersN  of  early  autumn.  In  the 
decline  of  the  year,  when  the  woods  were  variegated 
with  all  the  colors  of  the  rainbow,N  Ben  seemed  to 
desire  nothing  better  than  to  gaze  at  them  from 
morn  till  night. 

The  purple  and  gold  clouds  of  sunset  were  a  joy 
to  him.  And  he  was  continually  endeavoring  to 
draw  the  figures  of  trees,  men,  mountains,  horses, 
cattle,  geese,  ducks,  and  turkeys,  with  a  piece  of 
chalk,  on  barn-doors  or  on  the  floor. 

In  those  old  times,  the  Mohawk  Indians  were  still 
numerous  in  Pennsylvania.  Every  year  a  party  of 
them  used  to  pay  a  visit  to  Springfield,  because 
the  Avigwams  of  their  ancestors  had  formerly  stood 
there. 

These  wild  men  grew  fond  of  little  Ben,  and 
made  him  very  happy  by  giving  him  some  of  the 
red  and  yellow  paint  with  which  they  were  accus- 
tomed to  adorn  their  faces.  His  mother,  too,  pre- 
sented him  with  a  piece  of  indigo.  Thus  he  had 
now  three  colors— red,  blue,  and  yellow— and  could 
manufacture  green  by  mixing  the  yellow  with  the 
blue. 

Our  friend  Ben  was  overjoyed,  and  doubtless 
showed  his  gratitude  to  the  Indians  by  taking  their 


FIFTH     READER,  63 

likenesses  in  the  strange  dresses  which  they  wore, 
with  feathers,  tomahawks,  and  bows  and  arrows. 

But  all  this  time  the  young  artist  had  no  paint- 
brushes ;  nor  were  there  any  to  be  bought,  unless 
he  sent  to  Philadelphia  on  purpose.  However,  he 
was  a  very  ingenious  boy,  and  resolved  to  manu- 
facture paint-brushes  for  himself.  With  this  design 
he  laid  hold  upon— what  do  you  think  ?  Why,  upon 
a  respectable,  old,  black  cat  that  was  sleeping  quietly 
by  the  fireside. 

"Puss/'  said  little  Ben  to  the  cat,  "pray  give  me 
some  of  the  fur  from  the  tip  of  thy  tail." 

Though  he  addressed  the  black  cat  so  civilly,  yet 
Ben  was  determined  to  have  the  fur  whether  she 
were  willing  or  not.  Puss,  who  had  no  great  zeal 
for  the  fine  arts,  would  have  resisted  if  she  could ; 
but  the  boy  was  armed  with  his  mother's  scissors, 
and  very  dexterously  clipped  off  fur  enough  to 
make  a  paint-brush.  This  was  of  so  much  use  to 
him,  that  he  applied  to  Madame  Puss  again  and 
again,  until  her  warm  coat  of  fur  had  become  so 
thin  and  ragged  that  she  could  hardly  keep  com- 
fortable through  the  winter. 

Poor  thing !  She  was  forced  to  creep  close  into 
the  chimney-corner,  and  eyed  Ben  with  a  very  rueful 
physiognomy.  But  Ben  considered  it  more  neces- 
sary that  he  should  have  paint-brushes  than  that 
puss  should  be  warm. 

Notes.— Cardinal-flowers  are  of  several  varieties,  and  of  brill- 
iant colors.  They  derive  their  name,  so  it  is  said,  from  their 
color  resembling  that  of  a  cardinal's  cassock. 

The  colors  of  the  rainbow  are  red,  orange,  yellow,  green, 
blue,  indigo,  and  violet. 

Elocution.— Mark  the  inflections  in  the  last  paragraph. 


64 


FIFTH    READER. 


— BENJAMIN     WEST. 

PART      II. 


men;  a  lofty  place. 
per  plSx'i  ty,  doubt. 
a  bin  ti^§,  qualities;  talents. 
•eom  mlt'ted,  gave  in  trust. 
so  bri'e  ty,  calmness;  gravity. 
van'  i  ty ,  idle  show  ;  empty  pursuit. 


sim  pll9'i  ty,  freedom  from  cun- 
ning or  duplicity. 

land'  s^eap^s,  portions  of  land 
and  water  which  may  be  seen  at 
one  view. 

fa-e'ul  ty,  gift;  power. 

dis  •eot^rs^",  talk;  conversation. 


About  tliis  time,  Friend  West  received  a  visit 
from  a  Mr.  Pennington,  a  merchant  of  Philadelphia, 
who  wa.s  also  a  member  of  the  Society  of  Friends. 

The  visitor,  on  entering  the  parlor,  was  surprised 
to  see  it  ornamented  with  drawings  of  Indian  chiefs, 
and  of  birds  of  beautiful  plumage,  and  of  the  wild 
flowers  of  the  forest.  Nothing  of  the  kind  was  ever 
before  seen  in  the  home  of  a  farmer  among  the 
Friends. 

"  Why,  Friend  West,"  exclaimed  the  Philadelphia 
merchant,  "  what  has  possessed  thee  to  cover  thy 
walls  with  all  these  pictures  ?  Where  on  earth  didst 
thou  get  them?" 

Then  Friend  West  explained  that  all  these  pic- 
tures were  painted  by  little  Ben,  with  no  better 
materials  than  red  and  yellow  ochre,  and  a  piece 
of  indigo,  and  with  brushes  made  of  the  black  cat's 
fur. 

"Verily,"  said  Mr.  Pennington,  "the  boy  hath  a 
wonderful  faculty.  Some  of  our  friends  might  look 
upon  these  matters  as  vanity;  but  little  Benjamin 
appears  to  have  been  born  a  painter,  and  Provi- 
dence is  wiser  than  we  are." 


FIFTH    READER.  63 

The  good  merchant  patted  Benjamin  on  the  head, 
and  evidently  considered  him  a  wonderful  boy. 
When  his  parents  saw  how  much  their  son's  per- 
formances were  admired,  they  no  doubt  remem- 
bered the  prophecy  of  their  old  friend  respecting 
Ben's  future  eminence.  Yet  they  could  not  under- 
stand how  he  was  ever  to  become  a  great  and  use- 
ful man  merely  by  making  pictures. 

One  evening,  shortly  after  Mr.  Pennington's  re- 
turn to  Philadelphia,  a  package  arrived  at  Spring- 
field, directed  to  our  little  friend  Ben. 

''What  can  it  possibly  be?"  thought  Ben,  when 
it  was  put  into  his  hands.  "Who  could  have  sent 
me  such  a  great  square  package  as  this?" 

On  taking  off  the  thick  brown  paper  in  which 
it  was  wrapped,  behold !  there  was  a  paint-box,  with 
a  great  many  cakes  of  paint,  and  brushes  of  various 
sizes.  It  was  the  gift  of  good  Mr.  Pennington. 
There  were  likewise  several  squares  of  canvas,  such 
as  artists  use  for  painting  pictures  upon,  and,  in 
addition  to  all  these  treasures,  some  beautiful  en- 
gravings of  landscapes.  These  were  the  first  pict- 
ures that  Ben  had  ever  seen,  except  those  of  his 
own  drawing. 

What  a  joyful  evening  was  this  for  the  little 
artist !  At  bedtime  he  put  the  paint-box  under  his 
pillow,  and  got  hardly  a  wink  of  sleep ;  for,  all 
night  long,  his  fancy  was  painting  pictures  in  the 
darkness. 

In  the  morning,  he  hurried  to  the  garret,  and  was 
seen  no  more  till  the  dinner-hour;  nor  did  he  give 
himself  time  to  eat  more  than  a  mouthful  or 
two  of  food  before  he  hurried  back  to  the  garret 
again. 


66  FIFTH     READER. 

The  next  day,  and  the  next,  he  was  just  as 
busy  as  ever;  until  at  last  his  mother  thought  it 
time  to  ascertain  what  he  was  about.  She  accord- 
ingly followed  him  to  the  garret. 

On  opening  the  door,  the  first  object  that  pre- 
sented itself  to  her  eyes,  was  our  friend  Benjamin, 
giving  the  last  touches  to  a  beautiful  picture.  He 
had  copied  portions  of  two  of  the  engravings,  and 
made  one  picture  out  of  both,  with  such  admirable 
skill  that  it  was  far  more  beautiful  than  the  origi- 
nals. The  grass,  the  trees,  the  water,  the  sky,  and 
the  houses  were  all  painted  in  their  proper  colors. 
There,  too,  were  the  sunshine  and  the  shadow,  look- 
ing as  natural  as  life. 

"  My  dear  child,  thou  hast  done  wonders ! "  cried 
his  mother. 

The  good  lady  was  delighted.  And  well  might 
she  be  proud  of  her  boy ;  for  there  were  touches 
in  this  picture,  of  which  old  artists,  who  had  spent 
a  life-time  in  the  business,  need  not  have  been 
ashamed.  Many  a  year  afterward,  this  wonderful 
production  was  exhibited  at  the  Royal  Academy  in 
London. 

Well,  time  went  on,  and  Benjamin  continued  to 
draw  and  paint  pictures,  until  he  had  now  reached 
the  age  when  it  was  proper  that  he  should  choose 
a  business  for  life.  His  father  and  mother  were  in 
considerable  perplexity  about  him. 

According  to  the  ideas  of  the  Friends,  it  is  not 
right  for  people  to  spend  their  lives  in  occupations 
that  are  of  no  real  and  sensible  advantage  to  the 
world.  Now,  what  advantage  could  the  world  expect 
from  Benjamin's  pictures? 

This  was  a  difficult   question ;   and,  in   order  to 


FIFTH    READER.  67 

set  their  minds  at  rest,  his  parents  determined,  to 
consult  the  preachers  and  wise  men  of  their  so- 
ciety. Accordingly,  they  all  assembled  in  the  meet- 
ing-house, and  talked  the  matter  over  from  begin- 
ning to  end. 

Finally,  they  came  to  a  very  wise  decision.  It 
seemed  so  evident  that  Providence  had  intended 
Benjamin  to  be  a  painter,  and  had  given  him  abili- 
ties which  would  be  thrown  away  in  any  other 
business,  that  the  Friends  resolved  not  to  oppose 
his  desire.  They  even  admitted  that  the  sight  of 
a  beautiful  picture  might  convey  instruction  to  the 
mind  and  might  benefit  the  heart  as  much  as  a 
good  book  or  a  wise  discourse. 

They  therefore  committed  the  youth  to  the  di- 
rection of  G-od,  being  well  assured  that  He  best 
knew  what  was  his  proper  sphere  of  usefulness. 
The  old  men  laid  their  hands  upon  Benjamin's  head 
and  gave  him  their  blessing,  and  the  women  kissed 
him  affectionately.  All  consented  that  he  should 
go  forth  into  the  world  and  learn  to  be  a  painter, 
by  studying  the  best  pictures  of  ancient  and  mod- 
ern times. 

So  our  friend  Benjamin  left  the  dwelling  of  his 
parents,  and  his  native  woods  and  streams,  and  the 
good  Friends  of  Springfield,  and  the  Indians  who 
had  given  him  his  first  colors,— he  left  all  the  places 
and  persons  whom  he  had  hitherto  known,  and  re- 
turned to  them  no  more.  He  went  first  to  Phila- 
delphia, and  afterward  to  Europe. 

Here  he  was  noticed  by  many  great  people,  but 
retained  all  the  sobriety  and  simplicity  which  he 
had  learned  among  the  Friends.  It  is  related  of 
him,  that,  when  he  was  presented  at  the  court  of 


68  FIFTH    READER. 

the  Prince  of  Parma,  he  kept  his  hat  upon  his  head, 
even  while  kissing  the  prince's  hand. 

When  he  was  twenty-five  years  old,  he  went  to 
London,  and  established  himself  there  as  an  artist. 
In  due  course  of  time,  he  acquired  great  fame  "by 
his  pictures,  and  was  made  chief  painter  to  King- 
George  the  Third,  and  President  of  the  Royal  Acad- 
emy of  Arts. 

When  the  Friends  of  Pennsylvania  heard  of  his 
success,  they  felt  that  the  prophecy  of  the  old 
preacher  as  to  little  Ben's  future  eminence  was  now 
accomplished.  It  is  true,  they  shook  their  heads 
at  his  pictures  of  "battle  and  "bloodshed,  such  as  the 
"Death  of  Wolfe,"  thinking  that  these  terrible  scenes 
should  not  "be  held  up  to  the  admiration  of  the 
world. 

His  picture  of  "  Christ  Healing  the  Sick  "  was  ex- 
hibited at  the  Royal  Academy  in  London,  where  it 
covered  a  vast  space,  and  displayed  a  great  number 
of  figures  as  large  as  life.  On  the  wall,  close  beside 
this  admirable  picture,  there  hung  a  small  and  faded 
landscape.  It  was  the  same  picture  that  little  Ben 
had  painted  in  his  father's  garret,  after  receiving 
the  paint-box  and  engravings  from  good  Mr.  Pen- 
niiigton. 

He  lived  many  years  in  peace  and  honor,  and 
died  in  1820,  at  the  age  of  eighty-two.  The  story 
of  his  life  is  almost  as  wonderful  as  a  fairy  tale; 
for  there  are  few  more  wonderful  changes  than  that 
of  a  little  unknown  boy  of  the  Society  of  Friends, 
in  the  wilds  of  America,  into  the  most  distinguished 
English  painter  of  his  day. 

Let  us  each  make  the  best  use  of  our  natural 
abilities  as  Benjamin  West  did;  and,  with  the  bless- 


FIFTH    READER.  69 

ing  of  Providence,  we  shall  arrive  at  some  good  end. 
As  for  fame,  it  is  but  little  matter  whether  we 
acquire  it  or  not. 

NATHANIEL  HAWTHORNE. 


Biography.  — Nathaniel  Hawthorne,  one  of  our  best  known 
American  writers,  was  born  at  Salem,  Mass.,  in  1804.  He  was 
graduated  at  Bowdoin  College  in  1825. 

There  were  times  in  the  life  of  Hawthorne  when,  on  account 
of  poor  health,  he  was  compelled  to  give  up  literary  work.  On 
several  of  these  occasions,  he  filled  various  minor  positions  of 
public  trust. 

The  readiness  of  his  mind  for  sudden  changes  of  employment, 
may  be  illustrated  by  the  following  incident.  In  1849,  he  was  a 
surveyor  of  customs  in  Boston,  and  lost  his  position  through  a 
change  in  the  national  administration.  It  is  related  that  on  the 
very  day  he  gave  up  his  business  duties,  he  began  the  composi- 
tion of  "The  Scarlet  Letter,"  one  of  his  masterpieces. 

Besides  the  work  already  mentioned,  the  most  popular  of 
Hawthorne's  books  are  "Twice-told  Tales,"  "The  House  of  the 
Seven  Gables,"  "The  Marble  Faun,"  and  of  his  juvenile  works,— 
"Tanglewood  Tales,"  and  "Wonder  Book." 

Hawthorne  died  at  Plymouth,  New  Hampshire,  in  1864. 

Composition.  — Select  the  points  from  the  last  two  lessons,  that 
could  be  used  in  a  biographical  sketch. 


,  a  course  woolen  cloth  with 


.  —  THE     OLD    FARM-HOUSE. 

h^arth'-ston^,  stone  before  the      flask,  a  vessel  for  carrying  gun- 
powder. 

shorn,  clipped;  cut. 
pa^ch^d,  mended  with  pieces. 

The  easy  chair,  all  patched  with  care, 
Is  placed  by  the  cold  hearth-stone, 

With  witching  grace,  in  the  old  fire-place, 
The  evergreens  are  strewn ; 

And  pictures  hang  on  the  whitened  wall, 

And  the  old  clock  ticks  in  the  cottage  hall. 


7O  FIFTH    READER. 

More  lovely  still,  on  the  window-sill, 

The  dew-eyed  flowers  rest, 
While  midst  the  leaves  on  the  moss-grown  eaves, 

The  martin  builds  her  nest. 
And  all  day  long,  the  summer  breeze 
Is  whispering  love  to  the  bended  trees. 

Over  the  door,  all  covered  o'er 

With  a  sack  of  dark  green  baize, 
Lies  a  musket  old,  whose  worth  is  told 

In  the  events  of  other  days; 
And  the  powder-flask,  and  the  hunter's  horn, 
Have  hung  beside  it  for  many  a  morn. 

For  years  have  fled  with  a  noiseless  tread, 

Like  fairy  dreams,  away, 
And,  in  their  flight,  all  shorn  of  his  might, 

A  father— old  and  gray; 

And  the  soft  winds  play  with  the  snow-white  hair. 
And  the  old  man  sleeps  in  his  easy-chair. 

Inside  the  door,  on  the  sanded  floor, 

Light,  airy  footsteps  glide, 
And  a  maiden  fair,  with  flaxen  hair, 

Kneels  by  the  old  man's  side— 
An  old  oak  wrecked  by  the  angry  storm, 
While  the  ivy  clings  to  its  trembling  form. 


Elocution.  — With  what  tone  of  voice,  rate,  and  force  should 
this  poem  be  read? 

Notice  the  pleasing  effect  of  the  rhyme  at  the  middle  and 
end  of  the  first  and  third  lines  of  each  stanza. 

Language.  — In  the  second  stanza,  dew-eyed  flowers  means  that 
the  sparkling  dew-drops  upon  the  flowers  give  one  the  impres- 
sion of  eyes.  What  is  the  name  of  the  figure? 

Arrange  the  words  of  the  third  stanza  in  the  order  of  prose. 


FIFTH    READER.  71 


//.—MOTHER     NATURE'S    FAIRIES. 


\no\\,  a  little,  round  hiU. 

6x  pe  dl'tiong,  inarches;  excur- 


sions. 


pro  fu'  §ion,  great  abundance. 
ar  ra^g',  dresses;  envelopes. 
lav7  ish,  great;  plentiful. 

(jos'l),  crowd  against. 


•edn  fi  d&n'tial,  trusting;  secret. 
adora'tion,  the  act  of  paying 

honors  to  a  divine  being. 
di/a  tor,  a  public  speaker. 
pitish,  a  fabric  with  a  soft  nap  on 

one  side. 
•ean'o  p^,  a  covering  to  protect  one. 


"Spring-time  is  coming!   search  for  the  flowers  f 

Brush  off  the  brown  leaves,  the  darlings  are  here ! 
Joy  of  the  spring-time  picking  the  May-flowers  ! 
Kiss  the  spring-beauties,  the  babes  of  the  year  ! " 

The  winter  is  over  and  gone;  the  warm  south- 
wind  blowing  over  the  snow-hanks  has  melted  them 
and  they  are  now  running  away,  joyous  and  free, 
down  the  hill-sides,  and  through  the  meadows,  sing- 
ing such  a  merry  song  that  the  birds  and  flowers 
are  waking  up  and  listening  to  it. 

The  day  is  gaining  on  the  night,  and  the  bright, 
life-giving  rays  of  the  sun  shining  on  the  damp 
ground,  have  warmed  it ;  the  myriad  forms  of  grow- 
ing root,  stem,  and  leaf  feel  the  warmth,  and  are 
already  stretching  themselves,  preparatory  to  get- 
ting up. 

The  more  courageous  flowers  that  are  not  afraid 
of  a  cold  morning,  have  rubbed  their  sleepy  eyes, 
are  up  and  dressed,  and  calling  in  their  sweet,  win- 
ning voices  to  their  brothers  and  sisters. 

Down  in  the  valley,  where  the  sun  shines  warm, 
along  the  low  hill-sides,  and  in  the  hazel-thickets, 
the  Dog-tooth- violet N  is  ringing  his  yellow  bell,  while 
he  gaily  nods  to  passers-by,  This  flower  is  really 


72  FIFTH    READER. 

a  lily  instead  of  a  violet,  but  we  will  not  try  to 
change  his  name  now.  We  all  know  him  very  well, 
and  are  glad  to  welcome  his  return  with  the  first 
warm  days  of  spring. 

He  first  spreads  out  his  mantle  of  green,  white, 
and  purple,  so  that  his  friends  may  know  that  be- 
fore long  he  will  be  here  himself.  He  is  as  good  as 
his  word;  and  as  if  by  magic,  we  see  him  standing 
with  his  spotted  cloak  around  him,  and  his  yellow 
cap  turned  up,  giving  us  a  good  view  of  his  happy 
face.  He  has  not  rung  in  vain,  for  a  whole  troop 
of  his  companions  are  ready  to  welcome  him. 

Standing  beside  him,  and  willing  to  shake  hands 
at  any  time,  is  that  delicate  little  creature,  the  Spring 
Beauty.  She  is  very  frail,  and  does  not  seem  able 
to  bear  much,  and  we  will  handle  her  very  carefully 
as  we  look  with  wonder  on  her  delicate  beauty. 

Her  gauzy,  rose-colored  dress  seems  ready  to  melt 
at  the  touch,  and  we  smile  to  see  what  a  low  bow 
her  friend,  the  Dog-tooth-violet,  gives  her.  She  is 
a  little  queen,  and  he  knows  it.  They  are  enjoy- 
ing each  other's  society  so  well,  that  we  can  leave 
them  to  themselves;  for  in  their  quiet  way,  they 
are  having  a  confidential  chat  that  we  will  not  listen 
to. 

Farther  on,  where  the  thickets  are  lost  in  the 
deeper  woods,  we  see  the  blue-bird's  flower— the 
dainty  Hepatica.  Clustering  among  the  dead  leaves 
of  the  past  summer,  at  the  roots  of  the  trees,  or  cov- 
ering large  patches  in  the  upland  forest,  they  clus- 
ter together  in  a  timid,  wide-awake  manner.  Very 
gentle  and  loving  they  seem  to  be,  and  though  they 
do  jostle  one  another  a  good  deal,  they  never  com- 
plain, but  smile  and  wink,  and  go  on  stretching 


FIFTH    READER.  73 

up  their  downy  necks  that  they  may  show  their 
beautiful,  new  dresses  to  the  blue  sky,  as  it  looks 
down  at  them  through  the  bare  branches  of  the 
trees. 

Near  by,  within  speaking  distance,  the  Blood- 
root  is  unfolding  her  pearly  spring  dress ;  and  shak- 
ing out  all  its  creases,  she  arrays  herself  in  it,  and 
stands  up  looking  like  a  bride  in  her  gold  and 
pearls. 

These  lovely  spring  blossoms,  the  fairies  that  at- 
tend Mother  Nature  in  all  her  rambles  through 
woodland  and  meadow,  have  been  tenderly  cared 
for  by  her  through  the  long  winter.  She  has  had 
them  tucked  up  most  carefully  in  their  snug,  little 
beds,  with  snow-white  blankets  wrapped  around 
them,  and,  by  a  gentle  rocking,  peculiarly  her  own, 
has  kept  them  sleeping  through  the  long,  cold  night. 
And  now,  when  they  hear  her  gentle  voice  calling 
them,  they  are  only  too  glad  to  obey,  and,  like  obe- 
dient children,  come  and  go  at  her  bidding. 

The  Buttercups,  with  their  yellow  dresses,  fresh 
and  new,  are  gilding  meadows  and  uplands  every- 
where. They  are  not  very  particular,  but  are  con- 
tented if  they  only  have  standing  room.  They  open 
their  eyes  wide  to  the  sunshine,  and  greet  their 
friends,  the  daisies  and  violets,  with  a  pleasant  nod, 
while  the  children  are  delighted  to  reflect  their 
little  fat  chins  in  their  yellow  cups. 

These  flowers  are  sturdy  little  fellows,  some  of 
them,  and  lift  up  their  heads  pretty  high  as  they 
pass  the  gentle  Wind-flowers,  with  the  remark  that 
they  are  too  tender  to  live,  and  the  Wind-flowers, 
as  though  hurt  by  the  remark,  gently  close  their 
mild  eyes,  bow  their  heads,  and,  before  long,  fade 


74  FIFTH    READER. 

away  out  of  sight;  while  the  Buttercup,  in  his 
strength  and  vain-glory,  keeps  on  his  march  through 
the  long  summer  days. 

The  voice  of  that  little  orator,  Jack-in-the-Pul- 
pit,  is  heard  just  as  soon  as  it  is  considered  safe 
for  him  to  speak  without  danger  of  getting  cold 
and  having  a  sore  throat.  He  erects  his  pulpit, 
spreads  his  canopy  over  it,  and  then  commences 
his  speech,  which  well  pays  all  that  hear  it.  He  is 
very  attractive  in  his  fanciful  robe  of  green-spotted 
velvet,  and  is  considered  the  king  of  his  time;  hut 
as  his  labors  and  strength  are  spent  almost  entirely 
in  the  grand  old  woods,  hundreds  of  his  subjects 
are  off  at  play,  on  the  lawns,  in  the  meadows,  and 
by  the  brook  side. 

Those  comical  little  beauties,  the  Dutchman's 
Breeches,  may  be  seen  any  time  climbing  the  low 
hill-side,  or  waving  their  feathery  leaves  in  the 
margin  of  the  woods;  and,  although  they  spend 
their  time  mainly  in  lolling  about  on  the  young 
grass,  or  even  on  the  bare  ground,  their  waxy-white 
garments  are  never  soiled,  and  they  are  the  envy 
of  their  neighbors. 

The  Columbine  in  her  scarlet  and  gold,  that  lives 
in  the  rocky  castle  just  above  him,  on  the  summit 
of  the  knoll,  is  shaking  her  head  in  displeasure  at 
his  laziness,  telling  him  that  he  can  never  be  any 
body  as  long  as  he  is  content  to  live  such  a  quiet, 
humdrum  life,  never  getting  up  on  the  highlands, 
or  making  any  expeditions  among  chasms  or  dan- 
gerous depths;  for  her  part,  she  delights  in  gazing 
down  steep  places,  and  clinging  to  the  rock  side, 
enjoying  many  a  chat  with  the  Harebells,  whom 
he  never  meets.  But  the  flowers  all  know  the  Col- 


FIFTH    READER.  7S 

umbine,  and  feel  that  if  she  does  hold  her  head 
so  high  up  in  the  world,  she  is  kind  at  heart  and 
means  well. 

Far  out  on  the  distant  prairies  and  "bluffs  of  the 
West,  are  seen  some  rare  gems  of  flowers.  Queen 
among  them  all  is  the  lovely  Pasque-flower,N  or,  as 
it  is  called,  the  Easter-bell,  because  she  presents  her 
"lilies"  at  Easter.  Before  the  ground  has  been 
warmed  even  by  the  early  spring  sun,  we  see  her 
pushing  up  into  view  her  flower-bud,  covered  with 
plush  of  the  softest  brown.  She  stands  alone  on 
the  bare,  cold  ground,  with  the  chill  winds  blowing 
over  her;  often  making  her  first  offering  before 
there  is  even  one  blade  of  green  grass  to  welcome 
her,  and  her  sister  flowers  are  yet  sleeping  soundly 
in  their  beds. 

The  beautiful  brown  plush  of  her  cloak  is  lined 
with  bluish-purple,  shading  to  white;  and  when  she 
unveils  her  face  in  all  its  beauty,  a  fairer  one  was 
never  seen.  Her  Eastern  cousins  would  gaze  in  de- 
light if  they  could  only  see  her,  but  they  probably 
never  will;  for  she  is  queen  among  the  spring  flow- 
ers of  the  West,  and  never  leaves  home. 

The  Dodecatheon,N  or  Shooting-star,  as  it  is  famil- 
iarly called,  is  a  tall,  graceful  flower,  hanging  its 
crown  of  lilac  and  pinkish  blossoms  in  wing-like 
clusters  on  the  summit  of  the  stem.  It  is  a  re- 
markable flower,  noted  for  its  grace  and  beauty, 
and  grows  in  lavish  profusion  in  the  hazel-thick- 
ets. 

But  one  long,  bright,  summer  day  would  not  give 
us  time  enough  to  tell  the  names,  even  of  the  dar- 
lings east  and  west,  that  people  our  groves,  meadows, 
and  brook  sides ;  beginning  with  that  fragrant,  waxy 


76  FIFTH    READER. 

gem,  the  Trailing  Arbutus,  and  closing  our  list  with 
the  last  "blossoms  of  the  season,  the  waving  G-olden- 
rod  and  the  classic  Blue  Gentian. 

They  smile  on  us  from  every  nook  the  sun  shines 
on,  and  lift  their  bright  eyes  to  the  sky  in  mute 
adoration,  always  receiving  storm  and  sunshine 
alike,  in  quiet  content. 

MARY  W.  ALLEN. 


Notes.  — The  Dog-tooth- violet  is  so  called  on  account  of  two 
projections  somewhat  resembling  blunt  teeth  near  the  base  of  its 
petals. 

The  Pasque-flower  (pask)  derives  its  name  from  pasque,  an 
old  French  word  meaning  Easter.  The  flower  blooms  about  the 
time  of  the  Easter  festival. 

Do  de  eath'e  on  (dodeha,  twelve ;  theoi,  gods)  is  a  name  given 
by  the  poetic  naturalist,  Linnaeus,  inasmuch  as  the  twelve 
flowers  seemed  to  him  to  deserve  the  name  of  divinities. 

Elocution.  —  State  what  inflections  should  be  employed  in 
reading  the  first  paragraph  on  page  74. 

Point  out  the  position  of  rhetorical  pauses  in  the  first  para- 
graph of  the  lesson. 

Language.  — The  lesson,  although  prose  in  form,  resembles 
poetry  both  in  thought  and  language.  It  may  therefore  be 
called  a  prose-poem. 

In  the  statement  — "  The  day  is  gaining  on  the  night,"  is  the 
thought  of  a  race  between  day  and  night  suggested?— If  so,  name 
the  figure  of  comparison  employed. 

When  we  speak  of  flowers  as  rubbing  their  sleepy  eyes,  rising  and 
dressing,  we  attribute  to  them  the  actions  of  persons.  A  metaphor 
in  which  human  characteristics  are  attributed  to  objects  not 
properly  possessing  them,  is  called  personification. 

What  figure  of  comparison  is  used  in  the  expression  — Dame 
Nature  ? 

Composition.— Use  as  a  subject  for  analysis  and  treatment- 
Buttercups  and  Daisies. 

ItemarTa.  —  The  description  of  flowers  will  afford  matter  for  an 
occasional  composition,  to  those  interested  in  the  subject  of 
botany.  The  habits  of  observation  and  classification  acquired 
through  the  study  of  plants  and  other  natural  objects,  will 
lead  to  the  systematic  arrangement  of  thoughts  upon  any  sub- 
ject, and  prove  invaluable  aids  to  original  composition. 


FIFTH  READER. 


77 


.  —  BEETHOVEN'S  MOONLIGHT  SONATA. 


so  na'ta,  a  kind  of  musical  com- 
position. 

fi  na'le  (fe  na'la),  the  end  of  a 
piece  of  music. 

in  v61'un  ta  ri  ly,  without 
cfwice;  without  intending. 

rSv'er  ent  ly,  with  fear,  mingled 
with  respect  and  love. 

ag  i  ta'  to,  hurried;  trembling. 

im  p&l'siv^,  sudden;  unexpected. 


Im'  pro  vi§^',  play  something 
without  preparation. 

in'fi  nlt^  ly,  without  bounds  or 
limits. 

gro  tdsque'  (gr5  tesk'),  wildly 
formed;  ludicrous. 

•eom  pas'sion  at^  ly,  with  kind- 
ness, pity,  or  sympathy. 

glf'in,  intricate;  relating  to  elves. 

In'ter  lud^,  a  short  piece  of  music. 


It  happened  at  Bonn.  One  moonlight  winter's 
evening  I  called  upon  Beethoven  ;N  for  I  wished  him 
to  take  a  walk,  and  afterward  sup  with  me.  In 
passing  through  some  dark,  narrow  street,  he  sud- 
denly paused.  "Hush!"  he  said,  "what  sound  is 
that  ?  It  is  from  my  Sonata  in  F.N  Hark !  how  well 
it  is  played!" 

It  was  a  little,  mean  dwelling,  and  we  paused 
outside  and  listened.  The  player  went  on;  but,  in 
the  midst  of  the  finale,  there  was  a  sudden  break ; 
then  the  voice  of  sobbing.  "I  can  not  play  any 
more.  It  is  so  beautiful;  it  is  utterly  beyond  my 
power  to  do  it  justice.  O,  what  would  I  not  give 
to  go  to  the  concert  at  Cologne!" 

"Ah!  my  sister,"  said  her  companion;  "why 
create  regrets  when  there  is  no  remedy?  We  can 
scarcely  pay  our  rent." 

"You  are  right,  and  yet  I  wish  for  once  in  my 
life  to  hear  some  really  good  music.  But  it  is  of 
no  use." 

Beethoven  looked  at  me.  "Let  us  go  in,"  he 
said. 


78  FIFTH    READER. 

"Go  in!"   I  exclaimed;  "what  can  we  go  in  for?" 

"I  will  play  to  her,"  he  said,  in  an  excited  tone. 
"Here  is  feeling— genius— understanding !  I  will  play 
to  her,  and  she  will  understand  it." 

And,  before  I  could  prevent  him,  his  hand  was 
upon  the  door.  It  opened  and  we  entered. 

A  pale  young  man  was  sitting  by  the  table, 
making  shoes;  and  near  him,  leaning  sorrowfully 
upon  an  old-fashioned  piano,  sat  a  young  girl,  with 
a  profusion  of  light  hair  falling  over  her  face. 
Both  were  cleanly  but  very  poorly  dressed,  and 
both  started  and  turned  toward  us  as  we  entered. 

"Pardon  me,"  said  Beethoven,  "but  I  heard  mu- 
sic and  was  tempted  to  enter.  I  am  a  musician." 

The  girl  blushed,  and  the  young  man  looked 
grave  and  somewhat  annoyed. 

"I — I  also  overheard  something  of  what  you 
said,"  continued  my  friend.  "You  wish  to  hear- 
that  is,  you  would  like— that  is— shall  I  play  for 
you?" 

There  was  something  so  odd  in  the  whole  affair, 
and  something  so  comical  and  pleasant  in  the  man- 
ner of  the  speaker,  that  the  spell  was  broken  in  a 
moment,  and  all  smiled  involuntarily. 

"Thank  you,"  said  the  shoemaker;  "but  our 
piano  is  so  wretched,  and  we  have  no  music." 

"ISTo  music!"  echoed  my  friend;  "how,  then, 

does  the  young  lady "  He  paused,  and  colored; 

for,  as  he  looked  in  the  girl's  face,  he  saw  that  she 
was  blind.  "I— I  entreat  your  pardon,"  he  stam- 
mered. "I  had  not  perceived  before.  Then  you 
play  by  ear?  But  where  do  you  hear  the  music, 
since  you  frequent  no  concerts?" 

"We    lived    at    Bruhl    for    two   years,    and    while 


FIFTH    READER.  79 

there,  I  used  to  hear  a  lady  practicing  near  us. 
During  the  summer  evenings,  her  windows  were 
generally  open,  and  I  walked  to  and  fro  outside  to 
listen  to  her." 

She  seemed  so  shy  that  Beethoven  said  no  more, 
but  seated  himself  quietly  before  the  piano  and 
began  to  play.  He  had  no  sooner  struck  the  first 
chord  than  I  knew  what  would  follow— how  grand 
he  would  be  that  night.  And  I  was  not  mistaken. 
Never,  during  all  the  years  I  knew  him,  did  I  hear 
him  play  as  he  then  played  to  that  blind  girl  and 
her  brother.  He  seemed  to  be  inspired;  and,  from 
the  instant  when  his  fingers  began  to  wander  along 
the  keys,  the  very  tone  of  the  instrument  seemed 
to  grow  sweeter  and  more  equal. 

The  brother  and  sister  were  silent  with  wonder 
and  rapture'.  The  former  laid  aside  his  work;  the 
latter,  with  her  head  bent  slightly  forward,  and 
her  hands  pressed  tightly  over  her  breast,  crouched 
down  near  the  end  of  the  piano,  as  if  fearful  lest 
even  the  beating  of  her  heart  should  break  the 
flow  of  those  magical,  sweet  sounds.  It  was  as  if 
we  were  all  bound  in  a  strange  dream,  and  only 
feared  to  awake. 

Suddenly  the  flame  of  the  single  candle  wavered, 
sank,  flickered,  and  went  out.  Beethoven  paused, 
and  I  threw  open  the  shutters,  admitting  a  flood 
of  brilliant  moonlight.  The  room  was  almost  as 
light  as  before,  the  moon's  rays  falling  strongest 
upon  the  piano  and  player.  But  the  chain  of  his 
ideas  seemed  to  have  been  broken  by  the  accident. 
His  head  dropped  upon  his  breast;  his  hands  rested 
upon  his  knees ;  he  seemed  absorbed  in  deep  thought. 
He  remained  thus  for  some  time.  At  length  the 


8O  FIFTH    READER. 

young  shoemaker  rose  and  approached  him  eagerly, 
yet  reverently. 

"Wonderful  man!"  he  said,  in  a  low  tone.  "Who 
and  what  are  you?" 

"  Listen ! "  said  Beethoven,  and  he  played  the 
opening  bars  of  the  Sonata  in  F.  A  cry  of  delight 
and  recognition  burst  from  them  both,  and  ex- 
claiming, "  Then  you  are  Beethoven ! "  they  covered 
his  hands  with  tears  and  kisses. 

He  rose  to  go,  but  we  held  him  back  with  en- 
treaties. "  Play  to  us  once  more— only  once  more  ! " 

He  suffered  himself  to  be  led  back  to  the  instru- 
ment. The  moon  shone  brightly  in  through  the 
window,  and  lighted  up  his  glorious,  rugged  head 
and  massive  figure.  "I  will  improvise  a  sonata  to  the 
moonlight ! "  said  he,  looking  up  thoughtfully  to  the 
sky  and  stars.  Then  his  hands  dropped  on  the  keys, 
and  he  began  playing  a  sad  and  infinitely  lovely 
movement,  which  crept  gently  over  the  instrument, 
like  the  calm  flow  of  moonlight  over  the  dark  earth. 

This  was  followed  by  a  wild,  elfin  passage  in  triple 
time— a  sort  of  grotesque  interlude,  like  the  dance 
of  sprites  upon  the  lawn.  Then  came  a  swift  agitato 
finale — a  breathless,  hurrying,  trembling  movement, 
descriptive  of  flight,  and  uncertainty,  and  vague 
impulsive  terror,  which  carried  us  away  on  its  rust- 
ling wings,  and  left  us  all  in  emotion  and  won- 
der. 

"  Farewell  to  you  ! "  said  Beethoven,  pushing  back 
his  chair,  and  turning  toward  the  door— "  farewell 
to  you ! " 

"You  will  come  again?"  asked  they,  in  one  breath. 

He  paused  and  looked  compassionately,  almost 
tenderly,  at  the  face  of  the  blind  girl. 


FIFTH    READER.  81 

"Yes,  yes,"  lie  said  hurriedly,  "I  will  come  again, 
and  give  the  young  lady  some  lessons !  Farewell ! 
I  will  come  again ! " 

Their  looks  followed  us  in  silence  more  eloquent 
than  words  till  we  were  out  of  sight. 

"Let  us  make  haste  back,"  said  Beethoven,  "that 
I  may  write  out  that  sonata  while  I  can  yet  re- 
member it." 

We  did  so,  and  he  sat  over  it  until  long  past 
day-dawn.  And  this  was  the  origin  of  that  Moon- 
light Sonata  with  which  we  are  all  so  fondly  ac- 
quainted. 

Biography.  —  lAidwig  van  Beethoven  (ba't5  ven),  one  of  the 
greatest  composers,  was  born  at  Bonn  in  1770,  and  died  in 
Vienna  in  1827. 

The  works  of  Beethoven  created  a  new  epoch  in  the  develop- 
ment of  music,  and  the  popularity  of  his  compositions  has  not 
diminished  with  the  lapse  of  years. 

The  ]>ieture  of  Beethoven  that  is  given  us  by  his  biographers, 
is  indeed  a  sad  one.  He  was  alone,  deaf,  and  the  object  of  un- 
kind treatment  on  the  part  of  those  who  should  have  been  his 
friends.  How  nobly  he  rose  above  all  petty  annoyances,  we  can 
readily  understand  when  we  listen  to  the  grand  and  solemn 
strains  of  his  immortal  music. 

Notes  and  Questions. —Where  is  Bonn?     Where  is  Cologne? 

s<»Kit<i  in  />'  is  the  name  of  a  musical  composition  written  in 
the  key  of  F. 

Elocution.  — The  repetition  of  I  in  the  seventh  paragraph  de- 
notes hesitation  or  stammering.  The  dashes  in  the  same  para- 
graph are  used  to  mark  abrupt  changes  of  thought  due  to  mental 
jonfusion. 

Find  another  example  in  the  lesson,  of  repetition  of  words  in 
stammering. 

Language.  — The  first  word  of  the  lesson,  It,  has  the  following 
meaning :  —  The  events  u-hiHi  T  am  about  t<,  tfrsrt-ihf  or  Miti-tiJf  <>f. 
The  use  of  the  word  It  may  shorten  t  he  expression  of  a  thought; 
but  it,  is  too  indefinite  in  monning  i<>  h<-  employed  frequently. 
The  use  of  the  \vord  in  the  case  already  referred  to.  en  uses  the 
instant  inquiry  —  "What  happened  at  Bonn?" 

(jiv«-  t  \vo  other  examples  in  \vhieh  it  is  employed,  and  sub- 
stitute its  meaning  in  eaeli  case. 


82  FIFTH    READER. 


/<?.  —  THE     FROST     SPIRIT. 


stat'  u^  (stat'  yu),  something  solid 
formed  into  the  likeness  of  a  liv- 


ing oeing  ;  an  image. 
baffled,  defeated;  foiled. 
tor' p id,  liawng  lost  motion. 


Nor  we'gi  an,  relating  to  Nor- 


glaz'ing,    rendering  smooth  like 


,  not  good;  lad. 


He  comes,— lie  comes,— tlie  Frost  Spirit  comes  1 

You  may  trace  his  footsteps  now 
On  the  naked  woods  and  the  "blasted  fields 

And  the  broad  hill's  withered  brow. 
He  has  smitten  the  leaves  of  the  gray  old  trees 

Where  their  pleasant  green  came  forth ; 
And  the  winds,  which  follow  wherever  he  goes, 

Have  shaken  them  down  to  earth. 

He  comes,— he  comes,— the  Frost  Spirit  comes ! 

From  the  frozen  Labrador,— 
From  the  icy  bridge  of  the  Northern  seas, 

Which  the  white  bear  wanders  o'er,— 
Where  the  fisherman's  sail  is  stiff  with  ice, 

And  the  luckless  forms  below 
In  the  sunless  cold  of  the  lingering  night 

Into  marble  statues  grow ! 

He  comes,— he  comes,— the  Frost  Spirit  comes  !- 

On  the  rushing  Northern  blast, 
And  the  dark  Norwegian  pinesN  have  bowed 

As  his  fearful  "breath  went  past. 
With  an  unscorched  wing  he  has  hurried  on, 

Where  the  fires  of  HeclaN  glow 
On  the  darkly  "beautiful  sky  above 

And  the  ancient  ice  below. 


FIFTH    READER.  83 

He  comes,— lie  comes,— the  Frost  Spirit  comes  !— 

And  the  quiet  lake  shall  feel 
The  torpid  touch  of  his  glazing  breath, 

And  ring  to  the  skater's  heel; 
And  the  streams  which  danced  on  the  "broken  rocks, 

Or  sang  to  the  leaning  grass, 
Shall  bow  again  to  their  winter's  chain, 

And  in  mournful  silence  pass. 

He  comes,— he  comes,— the  Frost  Spirit  comes  I— 

Let  us  meet  him  as  we  may, 
And  turn  with  the  light  of  the  parlor  fire 

His  evil  power  away ; 
And  gather  closer  the  circle  round, 

When  that  firelight  dances  high, 
And  laugh  at  the  shriek  of  the  "baffled  Fiend 

As  his  sounding  wing  goes  "by ! 

JOHN  G.  WHITTIER. 

Biography.  — John  Greenleaf  Whittier,  the  author  and  poet,  was 
born  at  Haverhill,  Massachusetts,  in  1807.  His  parents  were 
members  of  the  Society  of  Friends. 

Whittier  worked  on  a  farm  and  at  the  trade  of  shoemaking 
untn  eighteen  years  of  age.  After  that  he  studied  for  two  years 
in  tiie  Haverhill  Academy. 

In  1829,  he  became  the  editor  of  a  paper  in  Boston  ;  and  since 
that  time  has  been  engaged  in  various  kinds  of  literary  work. 

His  poems  are  of  a  vigorous  and  picturesque  order ;  and  the 
adaptation  of  form  to  thought,  as  well  as  the  lofty  purity  and 
simplicity  of  his  style,  has  procured  for  his  writings  a  host  of 
readers  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic. 

Among  his  best  known  works  may  be  mentioned  the  follow- 
ing:  "Voices  of  Freedom,"  "  Songs  of  Labor,"  "Home  Ballads," 
"Snow- Bound,"  and  "Among  the  Hills." 

Notes.  — The  pine  trees  of  Norway  are  tall,  straight,  and  strong; 
and  these  qualities  make  them  desirable  for  masts  of  ships. 

Mt.  Hecla  is  an  active  volcano  on  the  Island  of  Iceland. 

Language.  —  What  is  meant  by  The  Frost  s/tirit?  Mention 
another  epithet  applied  to  intense  cold  in  the  lesson. 

What  figures  of  comparison  occur  throughout  the  lesson? 


84 


FIFTH    READER. 


.  —  ELEPHANT     HUNTING    IN     AFRICA. 

PART      I. 


a-e  -eom'pa  ni^d,  went  with. 
ag  ga  ge^rg',    mounted  native 

hunters. 

sp&e'u  lat  ing,  considering. 
im  pSn'e  tra  bl^,  not  to  be  en- 


im  pli9'it,  perfect;  very  great. 


•eon  front' ed,  stood  facing. 
as  sa\rants,  per  sons  who  attack. 
skirt,  run  along  the  edge  of. 
in  va'ri  a  bly,  without  change. 
pS§'i  tlv^  ly,  expressly ;  in  strong 

terms. 
Intervening,  coming  between. 


Tracking  was  very  difficult,  as  there  was  a  total 
absence  of  rain ;  it  was  next  to  impossible  to  dis- 
tinguish the  tracks  of  two  days'  date,  from  those 
most  recent,  upon  the  hard  and  parched  soil. 

The  greater  part  of  the  day  passed  in  useless  toil, 
and,  after  fording  the  river  backward  and  forward 
several  times,  we  at  length  arrived  at  a  large  area 
of  sand  in  a  bend  of  the  stream,  that  was  evi- 
dently overflowed  when  the  river  was  full;  this 
surface  of  many  acres  was  backed  by  a  large  forest. 

Upon  arrival  at  this  spot,  the  aggageers,  who  ap- 
peared to  know  every  inch  of  the  country,  declared 
that,  unless  the  elephants  had  gone  far  away,  they 
must  be  close  at  hand,  within  the  forest. 

We  were  speculating  upon  the  direction  of  the 
wind,  when  we  were  surprised  by  the  sudden  trump- 
eting of  an  elephant,  that  proceeded  from  the  forest, 
already  declared  to  be  the  hiding-place  of  the  herd. 

In  a  few  minutes,  a  fine,  large  elephant  marched 
majestically  from  the  jungle  upon  the  large  area 
of  sand,  and  proudly  stalked  directly  toward  the 
river. 

At  that  time  we  were  stationed  under  cover  of 
a  high  bank  of  sand  that  had  been  left  by  the  re- 


FIFTH    ftEADER.  83 

tiring  river  in  sweeping-  round  an  angle.  We  im- 
mediately dismounted  and  remained  well  concealed. 

The  question  of  attack  was  quickly  settled ;  the 
elephant  was  quietly  approaching  the  water,  which 
was  about  a  hundred  paces  distant  from  the  jungle  ; 
this  intervening  space  was  covered  with  heavy,  dry 
sand,  that  had  been  thrown  up  by  the  stream  in 
the  sudden  bend  of  the  river. 

I  proposed  that  we  should  endeavor  to  stalk  the 
elephant,  by  creeping  along  the  edge  of  the  river, 
under  cover  of  a  sand-bank  about  three  feet  high; 
and  that,  should  the  rifles  fail,  the  aggageers  should 
come  on  at  full  gallop,  and  cut  off  his  retreat  to 
the  jungle. 

Accordingly  I  led  the  way,  followed  by  my  head 
man  with  a  rifle,  while  I  carried  my  large  elephant 
gun,  which  I  called  "  Baby."  Florian  accompanied 
us.  Having  the  wind  fair,  we  advanced  quickly  for 
about  half  the  distance,  at  which  time  we  were 
within  a  hundred  and  flfty  yards  of  the  elephant, 
which  had  just  arrived  at  the  water  and  com- 
menced drinking. 

We  now  crept  cautiously  toward  him,  as  the  sand- 
bank had  decreased  to  a  height  of  about  two  feet, 
and  afforded  very  little  shelter.  Not  a  tree  nor 
bush  grew  upon  the  surface  of  the  barren  sand, 
which  was  so  deep  that  we  sank  nearly  to  the 
ankles  at  every  footstep. 

Still  we  crept  forward,  as  the  elephant  alter- 
nately drank  and  then  spouted  the  water  in  a  shower 
over  his  colossal  form;  but  just  as  we  had  arrived 
within  about  flfty  yards,  he  happened  to  turn  his 
head  in  our  direction,  and  immediately  perceived 
us. 


&6  FIFTH  READER. 

He  lifted  his  enormous  ears,  gave  a  short 
trumpet,  and  for  an  instant  wavered  in  his  de- 
termination whether  to  attack  or  fly;  hut  as  I 
rushed  toward  him  with  a  shout,  he  turned  toward 
the  jungle,  and  I  immediately  fired  a  steady  shot 
at  his  shoulder  with  the  "Baby." 

The  only  effect  of  the  shot  was  to  send  him  off 
at  a  great  speed  to  the  jungle ;  but  at  the  same 
time  the  three  aggageers  came  galloping  across  the 
sand  like  grey-hounds  in  a  course,  and,  wisely  keep- 
ing on  a  line  with  the  jungle,  they  cut  off  his  re- 
treat. Then  turning  toward  the  elephant,  they 
confronted  him,  sword  in  hand. 

At  once  the  furious  beast  charged  straight  at  the 
enemy ;  but  now  came  the  very  gallant  but  foolish 
part  of  the  hunt.  Instead  of  leading  the  elephant 
by  the  flight  of  one  man  and  horse,  according  to 
their  usual  method,  all  the  aggageers  at  the  same 
moment  sprung  from  their  saddles,  and  upon  foot, 
in  the  heavy  sand,  they  attacked  the  elephant  with 
their  swords. 

In  the  way  of  sport,  I  never  saw  any  thing  so 
jnagniflcent,  or  so  absurdly  dangerous.  The  elephant 
was  in  a  great  rage,  and,  nevertheless,  he  seemed 
to  know  that  the  object  of  the  hunters  was  to  get 
behind  him. 

This  he  avoided  with  great  dexterity,  turning 
with  extreme  quickness,  and  charging  headlong, 
first  at  one,  and  then  at  another  of  his  assailants, 
while  he  blew  clouds  of  sand  in  the  air  with  his 
trunk  and  trumpeted  with  fury.  Nimble  as  monkeys, 
nevertheless,  the  aggageers  could  not  get  behind 
him.  In  the  folly  of  excitement,  they  had  for- 
saken their  horses,  which  had  escaped  from  the  spot. 


"The    elephant   charged    through    the   aggageers. 
(See  page  87,) 


FIFTH    READER.  87 

The  depth,  of  the  loose  sand  was  in  favor  of  the 
elephant,  and  was  so  much  against  the  men  that 
they  avoided  his  charges  with  extreme  difficulty. 
It  was  only  by  the  determined  pluck  of  all  three 
that  they  alternately  saved  one  another,  as  two  in- 
variably dashed  in  at  the  flanks  when  the  elephant 
charged  the  third,  upon  which  the  cautious  ani- 
mal immediately  gave  up  the  chase,  and  turned 
upon  his  pursuers. 

During  this  time  I  had  been  laboring  through 
the  heavy  sand,  and  shortly  after  I  arrived  at  the 
fight,  the  elephant  charged  directly  through  the 
aggageers,  receiving  a  shoulder  shot  from  one  of 
iny  large  rifles,  and  at  the  same  time  a  slash  from 
the  sword  of  one  of  the  men  who,  with  great  dex- 
terity and  speed,  had  closed  in  behind  him  just  in 
time  to  reach  his  leg. 

Unfortunately,  he  could  not  deliver  the  cut  in  the 
right  place,  as  the  elephant,  w^ith  increased  speed,  com- 
pletely distanced  the  aggageers,  and  charging  across 
the  deep  sand,  reached  the  jungle. 

We  were  shortly  upon  his  track,  and,  after  run- 
ning about  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  found  him  dead  in 
a  dry  water-course.  His  tusks,N  like  those  of  the 
generality  of  Abyssinian  elephants,  were  exceed- 
ingly short,  but  of  good  thickness. 

Some  of  our  men,  who  had  followed  the  run- 
away horses,  shortly  returned  and  reported  that 
during  the  fight  they  had  heard  other  elephants 
trumpeting  in  the  dense  jungle  near  the  river. 

A  portion  of  thick  forest  of  about  two  hundred 
acres,  upon  this  side  of  the  river,  was  a  tempting 
covert  for  elephants,  and  the  aggageers,  who  \vrro 
perfectly  familiar  with  the  habits  of  the  animals, 


88  FIFTH   READER, 

positively  declared  tliat  tlie  herd  must  be  witliiii 
this  jungle. 

Accordingly  we  proposed  to  skirt  the  margin  of 
the  river,  which,  as  it  made  a  "bend  at  right  angles, 
commanded  two  sides  of  a  square.  Upon  reaching 
the  jungle  by  the  river  side,  we  again  heard  the 
trumpeting  of  an  elephant,  and  about  a  quarter  of 
a  mile  distant  we  observed  a  herd  of  twelve  of 
these  animals,  shoulder-deep  in  the  river. 

They  were  in  the  act  of  crossing  to  the  opposite 
side,  to  secrete  themselves  in  an  almost  impenetra- 
ble jungle  of  thorny  hedge. 

The  aggageers  advised  that  we  should  return  to 
the  ford  that  we  had  already  crossed,  assuring  us 
that  by  repassing  the  river,  we  should  most  prob- 
ably meet  the  elephants,  as  they  would  not  leave 
the  thick  jungle  until  night. 

Having  implicit  confidence  in  their  knowledge 
of  the  country,  I  followed  their  directions,  and 
shortly  afterward  we  recrossed  the  ford,  and  arrived 
upon  a  dry  portion  of  the  river's  bed,  banked  by  a 
dense  thicket. 


Notes.  — The  hunting  of  elephants  to  obtain  their  tusks,  has 
been  almost  entirely  given  up.  In  this  country  hard  rubber  and 
celluloid  are  manufactured  into  a  great  variety  of  useful  articles, 
many  of  -which  were  formerly  made  of  ivory. 

Describe  the  location  of  Abyssinia. 

Language.—  "Having  the  wind  fair"  in  hunting,  means  that 
the  wind  is  blowing  toward  the  hunters,  and  not  from  them  to- 
ward the  animals  hunted. 

What  figure  of  comparison  is  employed  in  the  expression 
"Nimble  as  monkeys?" 

Forsaken  their  horses  means  that  the  aggageers  left  their  horses 
and  went  toward  the  elephants.  To  abandon  any  thing  is  to  leave 
it  with  no  intention  of  returning.  To  desert  is  to  leave  in  direct 
Violation  of  duty. 


FIFTH    HEADEtt.  &Q 

ELEPHANT     HUNTING     IN     AFRICA. 

PART      II. 


loom' ing,  appearing. 
qul-el^'sll  ver,  a  certain  metal, 

white  like  silver. 

de  lib'er  at^,  careful;  slow. 
•eo  Vert,  a  place  which  covers  and 

protects. 
sus  pSns^',  the  state  of  being  in 

uncertainty. 
de  9l'siv^,  prompt;  determined. 


sev'er^d,  cut;  separated. 
sln'ew  (sm'yu),  that  which  unite* 

a  muscle  to  a  bone. 

a  clear  space  in  a  forest. 
qui  V  er^d,  shook  with  slight  mo- 

tion. 
£ir  eum'fer  en9^,  the  distance 


around  a  body. 
a-e'-eu  rat^  ly,  exactly;  carefully. 


Jali  now  took  the  management  of  affairs.  We  all 
dismounted  and  sent  the  horses  to  a  considerable 
distance,  lest  they  should,  "by  some  noise,  disturb 
the  elephants.  We  soon  heard  a  crackling  in  the 
jungle  on  our  right,  and  Jali  assured  us  that,  as 
he  had  expected,  the  elephants  were  slowly  advanc- 
ing through  the  jungle  on  the  bank  of  the  river, 
and  would  pass  exactly  before  us. 

We  waited  patiently  in  the  bed  of  the  river,  and 
the  crackling  in  the  jungle  sounded  closer  as  the 
herd  evidently  approached.  The  strip  of  thick, 
thorny  covert  that  fringed  the  margin,  was  in  no 
place  wider  than  half  a  mile ;  beyond  that,  the 
country  was  open  and  park-like,  but  at  this  sea- 
son it  was  covered  with  parched  grass,  from  eight 
to  ten  feet  high :  the  elephants  would,  therefore, 
most  probably  remain  in  the  jungle  until  driven 
out. 

In  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  we  judged  by  the 
noise  in  the  jungle  about  a  hundred  yards  from 
the  river,  that  the  elephants  were  directly  opposite 


90  FIFTH 


us.  I  accordingly  instructed  Jali  to  creep  quietly, 
"by  himself,  into  the  bush,  and  to  "bring  me  infor- 
mation of  their  position. 

In  three  or  four  minutes  he  returned.  He  de- 
clared that  it  would  be  impossible  to  use  the  sword, 
as  the  jungle  was  so  dense  that  it  would  check  the 
blow;  but  that  I  could  use  the  rifles,  as  the  ele- 
phants were  close  to  us.  He  had  seen  three  stand- 
ing together,  between  us  and  the  main  body  of  the 
herd. 

I  told  Jali  to  lead  me  directly  to  the  spot,  and, 
followed  by  Florian  and  the  aggageers,  with  my 
gun-bearers,  I  kept  within  a  foot  of  the  little  guide, 
upon  whom  I  depended,  as  he  crept  gently  into  the 
jungle. 

We  advanced  stealthily,  until  Jali  stepped  quietly 
to  one  side  and  pointed  with  his  finger.  I  immedi- 
ately observed  two  elephants  looming  up  through 
the  thick  bushes  about  eight  paces  from  me. 

Determined  to  try  fairly  the  forehead-shot,  I 
kept  my  ground  and  fired  a  quicksilver  and  lead 
bullet  from  one  of  the  large  rifles.  It  struck  her 
exactly  in  the  center  of  the  forehead.  The  only 
effect  was  to  make  the  huge  beast  stagger  backward, 
when,  in  another  moment,  with  her  immense  ears 
thrown  forward,  she  charged.  I  then  fired  my  re- 
maining barrel  a  little  lower  than  the  first  shot. 

Checked  in  her  rush,  she  backed  toward  the  dense 
jungle,  throwing  her  trunk  about  and  trumpeting 
with  rage.  Snatching  a  large  rifle  from  one  of  my 
trusty  men,  I  ran  straight  at  her,  took  deliberate 
aim  at  the  forehead,  and  fired  once  more.  The 
only  effect  was  a  decisive  charge  ;  but  before  I 
fired  my  last  barrel,  Jali  rushed  in,  and  with  one 


FIFTH    READER.  £1 

blow  of  his  sharp  sword,  severed  the  sinew  of  the 
hind  leg.  In  an  instant  she  was  utterly  helpless. 

I  had  fired  three  accurate  shots  and  all  had 
failed  to  kill.  There  could  no  longer  be  any  doubt 
that  the  forehead-shot,  so  fatal  to  the  IndianN  ele- 
phant, could  not  be  relied  upon  with  the  African 
species. 

I  now  reloaded  my  rifles,  and  the  aggageers  quit- 
ted the  jungle  to  remount  their  horses,  as  they 
expected  the  herd  had  broken  cover  on  the  other 
side  of  the  jungle ;  in  which  case,  they  intended  to 
give  chase,  and  if  possible  to  turn  them  back  into 
the  covert  and  drive  them  toward  the  guns. 

We  accordingly  took  our  stand  in  the  small,  open 
glade,  and  I  lent  Florian  one  of  my  double  rifles, 
as  he  was  only  provided  with  one  single-barreled 
elephant-gun . 

About  a  quarter  of  an  hour  passed  in  suspense, 
when  we  suddenly  heard  a  chorus  of  wild  cries  on 
the  other  side  of  the  jungle,  raised  by  the  agga- 
geers who  had  headed  the  herd  and  were  driving 
them  back  toward  us. 

In  a  few  minutes  a  tremendous  crashing  in  the 
jungle,  accompanied  by  the  occasional  shrill  scream 
of  a  savage  elephant,  and  the  continued  shouts  of 
the  aggageers,  assured  us  that  they  were  bearing 
down  exactly  in  our  direction ;  they  were  appar- 
ently followed,  even  through  the  dense  jungle,  by 
the  wild  and  reckless  Arabs. 

I  called  my  men  together,  and  told  them  to 
stand  fast,  and  to  hand  me  the  guns  quickly;  and 
we  eagerly  awaited  the  onset  that  rushed  toward 
us  like  a  storm.  For  a  moment  the  jungle  quiv- 
ered and  crashed ;  a  second  later  and  the  herd, 


£2  FIFTH    HEADER. 

headed  by  an  immense  elephant,  thundered  down 
upon  us. 

The  great  leader  came  directly  toward  me,  and 
received  in  the  forehead  the  contents  of  "both  "bar- 
rels of  my  large  rifle  as  fast  as  I  could  pull  the 
triggers.  The  shock  made  it  reel  backward  for  an 
instant  and  fortunately  turned  it  aside,  and  the 
rest  of  the  herd  followed  their  leader.  My  second 
rifle  was  rapidly  handled,  and  I  made  a  quick  shot 
with  both  barrels  at  the  temples  of  two  fine  ele- 
phants, dropping  them  both  stone  dead. 

At  this  moment  the  "  Baby "  was  pushed  into 
my  hand  by  another  of  my  men,  just  in  time  to 
take  the  shoulder  of  the  last  of  the  herd,  which 
had  already  charged  headlong  after  its  companions, 
and  was  disappearing  in  the  jungle. 

Bang!  went  the  "Baby,"  and  around  I  spun  like 
a  weathercock,  with  the  blood  pouring  from  my 
nose,  as  the  recoil  had  driven  the  sharp  top  of  the 
hammer  deep  into  the  bridge. 

My  "Baby"  not  only  screamed,  but  kicked  vi- 
ciously. However,  I  knew  that  the  elephant  must 
be  dead,  as  the  half-pound  shell  had  been  aimed 
directly  behind  the  shoulder. 

We  had  done  pretty  well.  I  had  been  fortunate 
in  baggingN  four  from  this  herd,  in  addition  to  the 
single  one  in  the  morning  —  total,  five.  Florian 
killed  one,  and  the  aggageers  one— total,  seven  ele- 
phants. One  had  escaped  that  I  had  wounded  in  the 
shoulder,  and  two  that  had  been  wounded  by  Flo- 
rian. 

Having  my  measuring-tape  in  a  game-bag,  that 
was  always  carried  by  one  of  the  men,  I  measured 
accurately  one  of  the  elephants  that  had  fallen,  with 


FIFTH    READER.  93 

the  legs  stretched  out,  so  that  the  height  to  the 
shoulder  could  be  exactly  taken.  From  foot  to 
shoulder,  in  a  direct  line,  nine  feet,  one  inch ;  cir- 
cumference of  foot,  four  feet,  eight  inches. 

We  now  left  the  jungle  and  found  our  horses 
waiting  for  us  in  the  bed  of  the  river  by  the  water- 
side, and  we  rode  toward  our  camp,  well  satisfied 
with  the  day's  sport. 

SIR  SAMUEL  WHITE  BAKER. 


Biography.  — Sir  Samuel  White  Baker,  the  African  traveler  and 
explorer,  -was  born  in  1821,  at  Thorngrove,  England. 

Baker  studied  civil  engineering,  and  early  in  life,  went  to 
Ceylon.  There,  led"  by  love  of  field-sports  into  the  recesses  of  the 
island,  he  gave  evidence  of  that  love  of  adventure  which  was  to 
make  him  famous  as  an  explorer. 

In  1862,  Baker,  accompanied  by  his  wife,  visited  Khartoum, 
and  then  ascended  the  White  Nile.  After  a  perilous  journey, 
they  succeeded  in  reaching  a  vast  lake,  which  he  named  the 
Albert  'Nyan'za.  For  this  exploit,  Baker  was  knighted  by  the 
Queen  of  England. 

The  principal  literary  works  of  Baker  are:  "Eight  Years' 
Wanderings  in  Ceylon,"  "The  Albert  'Nyanza,  Great  Basin  of  the 
Nile,"  and  "The  Nile  Tributaries  of  Abyssinia." 

Notes.  —  The  Indian  species  of  elephant  mentioned  in  the  lesson, 
is  found  in  Hin  do  stan',  Cey  Ion',  and  other  parts  of  the  East 
Indies. 

Bagging  is  a  word  used  by  sportsmen,  and  referred  originally 
to  small  game,  which  could  be  carried  in  a  bag.  In  a  broad  sense, 
the  word  is  applied  to  the  capture  of  game  of  any  size. 

Language.— A  sentence  is  a  thought  expressed  in  words,  and 
consists  of  the  combination  of  a  subject  and  a  predicate. 

The  predicate  of  a  sentence  is  an  action-word  (verb)  with  or 
without  modifying  words ;  the  subject  is  a  single  word  or  a  collec- 
tion of  words,  which  taken  with  the  predicate  forms  a  complete 
thought. 

Sentence.—  "  The  great  leader  came  directly  toward  us." 
The  subject  of  this  sentence  consists  of  the  name-word  (noun) 
"leader,"  modified    by   the   words    "great"   and    "the";  and    the 
iH'tion-u'ord-  "  came,"  modified  by  "directly"  and  "toward  us." 

The  modifiers  of  a  name-word  are  called  adjectives;  of  an  acti<>i>~ 
word,  adverbs. 


94  FIFTH    READER. 


.—  GR  AD  AT  I  M.N 


de  pog^d',  conquered;  laid  aside. 
sap'phir^  (saf 'Ir),  aprecious  stone 

of  a  blue  color. 
va^lt'ed,  arched. 


sla\n,  put  to  death. 

sen'su  al  (sen'shu  al),  relating  to 

the  body. 
as  pir^',  long  after. 


Heaven  is  not  reached  at  a  single  bound; 
But  we  build  the  ladder  "by  which  we  rise 
From  the  lowly  earth  to  the  vaulted  skies, 

And  we  mount  to  the  summit  round  "by  round. 

I  count  this  thing  to  "be  grandly  true : 

That  a  noble  deed  is  a  step  toward  Q-od— 
Lifting  the  soul  from  the  common  sod 

To  a  purer  air  and  a  broader  view. 

We  rise  by  things  that  are  under  our  feet; 

By  what  we  have  mastered  of  good  and  gain ; 

By  the  pride  deposed  and  the  passion  slain, 
And  the  vanquished  ills  that  we  hourly  meet. 

We  hope,  we  aspire,  we  resolve,  we  trust, 

When  the  morning  calls  us  to  life  and  light ; 
But  our  hearts  grow  weary,  and  ere  the  night, 

Our  lives  are  trailing  the  solemn  dust. 

We  hope,  we  resolve,  we  aspire,  we  pray, 

And  we  think  that  we  mount  the  air  on  wings, 
Beyond  the  recall  of  sensual  things, 

While  our  feet  still  cling  to  the  heavy  clay. 

Wings  for  the  angels,  but  feet  for  the  men ! 
We  may  borrow  the  wings  to  find  the  way  — 
We  may  hope,  and  resolve,  and  aspire,  and  pray ; 

But  our  feet  must  rise,  or  we  fall  again. 


FIFTH    READER.  95 

Only  in  dreams  is  a  ladder  thrown 

From  the  weary  earth  to  the  sapphire  walls; 

But  the  dreams  depart,  and  the  vision  falls, 
And  the  sleeper  wakes  on  his  pillow  of  stone. 

Heaven  is  not  reached  at  a  single  bound; 
But  we  build  the  ladder  by  which  we  rise 
From  the  lowly  earth  to  the  vaulted  skies, 

And  we  mount  to  the  summit  round  by  round. 

J.  G.  HOLLAND. 


Biography.  — Josiah  Gilbert  Holland  was  born  in  Belchertown, 
Massachussets,  in  1819,  and  died  in  New  York  City,  in  1882. 

Holland  was  engaged  in  the  practice  of  medicine  for  a  num- 
ber of  years ;  but  gave  up  his  profession  to  engage  in  educational 
and  literary  work. 

In  1870,  he  became  the  editor  of  "Scribner's  Monthly,"  and 
kept  up  his  association  with  that  periodical  until  the  time  of 
his  death. 

Holland's  reputation  was  chiefly  due  to  his  prose  writings, 
although  his  poems  "Katrina"  and  "Bitter-Sweet"  are  widely 
and  favorably  known.  His  principal  prose  works  are:  "The 
Bay  Path,"  "  Timothy  Titcomb's  Letters,"  "Miss  Gilbert's  Career," 
and  "Life  of  Abraham  Lincoln." 

Notes.  — The  title  of  this  poem  —  "Gra  da'tim,"  means  step  by 
step. 

Elocution.  — With  what  tone  of  voice,  rate,  and  force  should 
this  poem  be  read? 

In  the  fourth,  fifth,  and  sixth  stanzas,  there  should  be  a  slight 
increase  of  force  given  to  each  member  of  the  series  of  words, 
in  order  to  give  them  the  proper  emphasis.  An  increase  of 
force  of  the  kind  suggested  is  called  an  elocittionary  climax. 

Mark  inflections  used  in  the  last  stanza. 

Language.  —  Is  not  reached  in  the  first  stanza  means  can  not 
be  reached. 

Count  in  the  second  stanza  means  consider. 

What  figure  of  comparison  is  used  frequently  throughout  the 
poem  ?  Select  one  or  two  examples  of  the  figure  and  explain 
their  meaning  in  ordinary  language. 

Point  out  the  lines  which  rhyme,  in  the  first  two  stanzas. 


96  FIFTH    READER. 

//.— B  A  M  B  O  O. 

PART      I. 


ap  pre'  ci  at^,  estimate  truly. 

•ea.r'a  bash  eg,  the  fruit  of  a  tree 
of  that  name. 

go^rdg,  fleshy  fruit  with  one  cell 
and  many  seeds. 

fa  9ll'i  ty,  ease. 

rattan',  the  stem  of  a  plant  grow- 
ing in  India. 

e  las  tif' i  ty,  springiness. 


fyit  (sir' kit),  distana  round. 
sub'sti  tut^s,  persons  or  things 

put  in  the  place  of  others. 
in  se  -eu'ri  ty,   want  of  safety; 

danger. 

96  le>'  i  ty,  speed;  swiftness. 
e  -eo  nom'  i-e  al,  not  marked  with 

waste  or  extravagance. 
dl  ag'o  nal,  crossing  at  an  angle. 


During  my  many  journeys  in  Borneo,  and  espe- 
cially during  my  various  residences  among  the  na- 
tives, I  first  came  to  appreciate  the  admirable 
qualities  of  the  bamboo.  In  those  parts  of  South 
America  which  I  had  previously  visited,  these  gigan- 
tic grasses  were  comparatively  scarce,  and  but  little 
used  where  found;  their  place  being  taken,  as  to 
one  class  of  uses,  by  the  great  variety  of  palms,  and 
as  to  another,  by  the  hard  rind  of  calabashes  and 
gourds.  Almost  all  tropical  countries  produce  bam- 
boos; and,  wherever  they  are  found  in  abundance, 
the  natives  apply  them  to  a  variety  of  uses. 

Their  strength,  lightness,  smoothness,  straight- 
ness,  roundness,  and  hollo  wness,  the  facility  and 
regularity  with  which  they  can  be  split,  their  many 
different  sizes,  the  varying  length  of  their  joints, 
the  ease  with  which  they  can  be  cut,  and  with 
which  holes  can  be  made  through  them,  their  hard- 
ness outside,  their  freedom  from  any  pronounced 
taste  or  smell,  their  great  abundance,  and  the  rapid- 
ity of  their  growth  tmd  iucroHse,  are  all  qualities 
which,  render  them  useful  for  a  hundred  different 


FIFTH     READER.  97 

purposes,  to  serve  which,  other  materials  would  re- 
quire much  more  labor  and  preparation.  The  "bam- 
boo is  one  of  the  most  wonderful  as  well  as  beau- 
tiful productions  of  the  tropics,  and  one  of  nature's 
most  valuable  gifts  to  uncivilized  man. 

The  DyakN  houses  are  all  raised  on  posts,  and  are 
often  two  or  three  hundred  feet  long  and  forty  or 
fifty  feet  wide.  The  floor  is  always  formed  of  strips, 
about  three  inches  wide,  split  from  large  bamboos, 
so  that  each  may  be  laid  nearly  flat,  and  these 
are  firmly  tied  down  with  rattan  to  the  joists  be- 
neath. When  well  made,  this  is  a  delightful  floor 
to  walk  upon  barefooted,  the  rounded  surfaces  of 
the  bamboo  being  very  smooth  and  agreeable  to 
the  feet,  while  at  the  same  time  affording  a  firm 
hold. 

But  what  is  more  important,  they  form,  with  a 
mat  over  them,  an  excellent  bed,  the  elasticity  of 
the  bamboo  and  its  rounded  surface  being  far  supe- 
rior to  a  more  rigid  and  flatter  floor.  Here  we  at 
once  flnd  a  use  for  bamboo  which  can  not  be  sup- 
plied so  well  by  any  other  material  without  a  vast 
amount  of  labor.  Palms  and  other  substitutes  re- 
quire much  cutting  and  smoothing,  and  are  not 
so  good  when  finished. 

When,  however,  a  flat,  close  floor  is  required, 
excellent  boards  are  made  by  splitting  open  large 
bamboos  on  one  side  only,  and  flattening  them  out 
so  as  to  form  thin  boards  eighteen  inches  wide  and 
six  feet  long,  with  which  some  Dyaks  floor  their 
houses.  These,  with  constant  rubbing  of  the  feet 
and  the  smoke  of  years,  become  dark  and  polished, 
like  walnut  or  old  oak,  so  that  their  real  material 
can  hardly  be  recognized. 


98  FIFTH    READER. 

What  labor  is  here  saved  a  savage,  whose  only 
tools  are  an  ax  and  a  knife,  and  who,  if  he  wants 
boards,  must  hew  them  out  of  the  solid  trunk  of 
a  tree,  and  give  days  and  weeks  of  labor  to  obtain 
a  surface  as  smooth  and  beautiful  as  the  bamboo 
thus  treated  affords  him  ! 

Again,  if  a  temporary  house  is  wanted,  either 
by  the  native  on  his  plantation,  or  by  the  traveler 
in  the  forest,  nothing  is  so  convenient  as  the  bam- 
boo, with  which  a  house  can  be  constructed  with  a 
quarter  of  the  labor  and  time  required  when  other 
materials  are  used. 

The  natives  of  the  interior  make  paths  for  long 
distances,  from  village  to  village,  and  to  their  cul- 
tivated grounds,  in  the  course  of  which  they  have 
to  cross  many  gullies  and  ravines,  and  even  rivers; 
or  sometimes,  to  avoid  a  long  circuit,  to  carry  the 
path  along  the  face  of  the  precipice.  In  all  these 
cases,  the  bridges  they  construct  are  of  bamboo,  and 
so  admirably  adapted  is  the  material  for  the  pur- 
pose, that  it  seems  doubtful  whether  they  would 
ever  have  attempted  such  works  if  they  had  not 
possessed  it. 

The  native  bridge  is  simple  but  well  designed. 
It  consists  merely  of  stout  bamboos  crossing  each 
other  at  the  roadway  like  the  letter  X,  and  rising 
a  few  feet  above  it.  At  the  crossing  they  are  firmly 
bound  together,  and  to  a  large  bamboo  which  lies 
upon  them,  and  forms  the  only  pathway,  with  a 
slender  and  often  very  shaky  one  to  serve  as  a 
hand-rail. 

When  a  river  is  to  be  crossed,  an  overhanging 
tree  is  chosen,  from  which  the  bridge  is  partly  sus- 
pended and  partly  supported  by  diagonal  braces 


FIFTH    READER.  99 

from  the  banks,  so  as  to  avoid  placing  posts  in  the 
stream  itself,  which  would  "be  liable  to  be  carried 
away  by  floods. 

In  carrying  a  path  along  the  face  of  the  preci- 
pice, trees  and  roots  are  made  use  of  for  suspen- 
sion ;  braces  arise  from  suitable  notches  or  crevices 
in  the  rocks;  and,  if  these  are  not  sufficient,  im- 
mense bamboos,  fifty  or  sixty  feet  long,  are  fixed  on 
the  banks  or  on  the  branch  of  a  tree  below. 

These  bridges  are  traversed  daily  by  men  and 
women  carrying  heavy  loads,  so  that  any  insecurity 
is  soon  discovered,  and,  as  the-  materials  are  close 
at  hand,  immediately  repaired. 

When  a  path  goes  over  very  steep  ground,  and 
becomes  slippery  in  wet  or  dry  weather,  the  bam- 
boo is  used  in  another  way.  Pieces  are  cut  about  a 
yard  long,  and  opposite  notches  being  made  at  each 
end,  holes  are  formed  through  which  pegs  are 
driven,  and  firm  and  convenient  steps  are  thus  con- 
structed with  the  greatest  ease  and  celerity.  It  is 
true  that  much  of  this  will  decay  in  one  or  two 
seasons ;  but  it  can  be  so  quickly  replaced,  as  to 
make  its  use  more  economical  than  that  of  a 
harder  and  more  durable  wood. 


Notes  and  Questions.—  Dy'ak  is  a  name  given  to  the  natives 
of  the  island  of  Borneo. 

Where  is  the  island  of  Borneo? 

Elocution.  —  In  reading  long  sentences,  exercise  particular  care 
in  regard  to  pauses  and  inflections.  Unless  the  pauses  are  made 
in  the  proper  places,  the  meaning  of  the  sentences  will  be  ob- 
scured. If  the  falling  inflection  is  used  before  the  close  of  long 
descriptive  sentences,  listeners  will  think  that  the  sentences  are 
completed  before  they  are. 

Avoid  reading  long  sentences  rapidly,  for  if  the  reader  shows 
that  he  is  in  a  hurry,  the  sentences  will  appear  to  be  even 
longer  than  they  are. 


1OO  FIFTH    READER. 

/#.-  BAMBOO. 

PART      I  I. 


pr6p'  er  ti^§,  qualities  belonging 


de-e'  o  rat^,  adorn;  make  beauti- 

ful. 
aq'  ue  dCi-ets,  artificial  channels 

for  conveying  water. 
per  fe"-e'  tion,  the  highest  degree  of 

excellence. 
u  te"n'sil§,  vesselsused  in  a  kitchen. 


in  serf  ing,  setting  within  so/ne- 


ob  li'que'ly  (ob  leek'),  inclined  at 

an  angle. 
gyl'  in  der,  a  body  of  roller-like 

form. 


^  a  bl^,  useful;  adapted 
to  any  good  end  or  use. 
•edv'et  ed,  wished  for  eagerly. 


One  of  the  most  striking  uses  to  winch  bamboo 
is  applied  by  the  natives,  is  to  assist  them  in 
climbing  lofty  trees.  One  day  I  shot  a  small  ani- 
mal, which  caught  in  a  fork  of  a  tree  and  remained 
fixed.  As  I  was  very  anxious  to  get  it,  I  tried  to 
persuade  two  young  men  who  were  with  me  to 
cut  down  the  tree,  which  was  tall,  perfectly  straight, 
and  smooth-barked,  and  without  a  branch  for  fifty 
or  sixty  feet. 

To  my  surprise  they  said  they  would  prefer 
climbing  it,  although  it  would  be  a  good  deal  of 
trouble ;  but  after  a  little  talking  together,  they 
said  they  would  try.  They  first  went  to  a  clump 
of  bamboos  that  stood  near,  and  cut  down  one  of 
the  largest  stems.  From  this  they  chopped  off  a 
short  piece,  and  splitting  it,  made  a  couple  of  stout 
pegs,  about  a  foot  long,  and  sharp  at  one  end. 

Then  cutting  a  thick  piece  of  wood  for  a  mallet, 
they  drove  one  of  the  pegs  into  the  tree  and  hung 
their  weight  upon  it.  It  held,  and  this  seemed  to 
satisfy  them,  for  they  immediately  began  making 
a  quantity  of  pegs  of  the  same  kind,  while  I  looked 


FIFTH    READER.  101 

on  with  great  interest,  wondering  now  they  could 
possibly  ascend  sucli  a  lofty  tree  by  merely  driving 
pegs  in  it,  the  failure  of  any  one  of  which  at  a 
good  height  would  certainly  cause  their  death. 

When  about  two  dozen  pegs  had  been  made,  one 
of  them  began  cutting  some  very  long  and  slen- 
der bamboo  from  another  clump,  and  also  prepared 
some  cord  from  the  bark  of  a  small  tree.  They 
now  drove  in  a  peg  very  firmly  at  about  three 
feet  from  the  ground,  and,  bringing  one  of  the 
long  bamboos,  stood  it  upright,  close  to  the  tree, 
and  bound  it  firmly  to  the  first  two  pegs,  by  means 
of  the  bark  cord,  and  small  notches  near  the  head 
of  each  peg. 

One  of  the  men  now  stood  on  the  first  peg,  and 
drove  in  a  third,  about  level  with  his  face,  to  which 
he  tied  the  bamboo  in  the  same  way,  and  then 
mounted  another  step,  standing  on  one  foot,  and 
holding  by  the  bamboo  at  the  peg  immediately 
above  him,  while  he  drove  in  the  next  one.  In 
this  manner  he  ascended  about  twenty  feet,  when 
the  upright  bamboo  becoming  thin,  another  was 
handed  up  by  his  companion,  and  this  was  joined 
on  by  tying  both  bamboos  to  three  or  four  of  the 
pegs. 

When  this  was  also  nearly  ended,  a  third  was 
added,  and  shortly  after,  the  lowest  branches  of 
the  tree  were  reached,  along  which  the  young  na- 
tive scrambled,  and  soon  sent  the  little  animal 
tumbling  headlong  down. 

I  was  exceedingly  struck  by  the  ingenuity  of 
this  mode  of  climbing,  and  the  admirable  manner 
in  which  the  peculiar  properties  of  the  bamboo  were 
ma.de  available.  The  ladder  itself  was  perfectly  safe, 


102  FIFTH    READER. 

since  if  any  one  peg  were  loose  or  faulty,  and  gave 
way,  the  strain  would  be  thrown  on  several  others 
above  and  below  it.  I  now  understood  the  use  of 
the  line  of  bamboo  pegs  sticking  in  trees,  which  I 
had  often  seen,  and  wondered  for  what  purpose  they 
Gould  have  been  put  there. 

This  method  of  climbing  is  constantly  used  in 
order  to  obtain  wax,  which  is  one  of  the  most  valu- 
able products  of  the  country.  The  honey-bee  of 
Borneo  very  generally  hangs  its  combs  under  the 
branches  of  the  tappan,  a  tree  which  towers  above 
all  others  in  the  forest,  and  whose  smooth,  cylin- 
drical trunk  often  rises  a  hundred  feet  without 
a  branch.  The  natives  climb  these  lofty  trees  at 
night,  building  up  their  bamboo  ladder  as  they  go, 
and  bringing  down  gigantic  honey-combs. 

These  furnish  them  with  a  delicious  feast  of 
honey  and  young  bees,  besides  the  wax,  which  they 
sell  to  traders,  and  with  the  proceeds  buy  the  much 
coveted  brass  wire,  ear-rings,  and  gold-edged  hand- 
kerchiefs with  which  they  love  to  decorate  them- 
selves. In  ascending  durio  and  other  fruit  trees, 
which  branch  at  from  thirty  to  fifty  feet  from  the 
ground,  I  have  seen  them  use  the  bamboo  pegs 
only,  without  the  upright  bamboo  which  renders 
them  so  much  more  secure. 

The  outer  rind  of  the  bamboo,  split  and  shaved 
thin,  is  the  strongest  material  for  baskets;  hen- 
coops, bird-cages,  and  conical  fish-traps  are  very 
quickly  made  from  a  single  joint,  by  splitting  off 
the  skin  in  narrow  strips  left  attached  to  one  end, 
while  rings  of  the  same  material,  or  rattan,  are 
twisted  in  at  regular  distances. 

Water   is   brought   to   the    house  by  little  aque- 


FIFTH  HEADER.  103 

ducts  formed  of  large  bamboos  split  in  half  and 
supported  on  crossed  sticks  of  various  heights  to 
give  it  a  regular  fall.  Thin  long-jointed  bamboos 
form  their  only  water  vessels,  and  a  dozen  of  them 
stand  in  the  corner  of  every  house.  They  are  clean, 
light,  and  easily  carried,  and  are  in  many  ways 
superior  to  earthen  vessels  for  the  same  purpose . 

They  also  make  excellent  cooking  utensils ;  vege- 
tables and  rice  can  be  boiled  in  them  to  perfection, 
and  they  are  often  used  by  travelers.  Salted  fruit 
or  fish,  sugar,  vinegar,  and  honey  are  preserved  in 
them  instead  of  in  jars  or  bottles.  In  a  small  bam- 
boo case,  prettily  carved  and  ornamented,  the  native 
carries  his  materials  for  betel  chewing,  and  his  little 
long-bladed  knife  has  a  bamboo  sheath. 

His  favorite  pipe  is  a  large  hubble-bubble,  which 
he  will  construct  in  a  few  minutes,  by  inserting  a 
small  piece  of  bamboo  for  a  bowl  obliquely  into  a 
large  cylinder  about  six  inches  from  the  bottom, 
containing  water,  through  which  the  smoke  passes 
to  a  long,  slender  bamboo  tube. 

There  are  many  other  small  matters  for  which 
bamboo  is  daily  used,  but  enough  has  now  been 
mentioned  to  show  its  value.  In  other  parts  of 
the  archipelago  I  have  myself  seen  it  applied  to 
many  new  uses,  and  it  is  probable  that  my  limited 
means  of  observation  did  not  make  me  acquainted 
with  one-half  the  ways  in  which  it  is  serviceable 

to  the  natives. 

A.  R.  WALLACE. 

Biography.— Alfred  Russell  Wallace  is  an  eminent  traveler 
and  scientist.  He  is  known  as  the  author  of  several  works  on 
natural  history,  and  as  a  contributor  to  a  number  of  prominent 
periodicals.  Our  knowledge  of  the  Eastern  Archipelago  and  of 
South  America  has  been  greatly  enlarged  through  his  travels. 


1O4  FIFTH    READER. 


.— SONG     OF     THE     AMERICAN     EAGLE.N 


He'rl^  (e'ry),  the  nest  of  a  Urd  of 

prey. 

poi§^,  balance. 
vo  lupt'u  fcjus,  given  up  to  pleas- 


ure. 


(&zh'ur),  a  fine  blue  color. 


her7  it  ag^,  property  passing  from 

one  to  another. 

pSn'non,  flag  or  streamer. 
•era'v^n,  cowardly. 
pH'grim§,  wanderers. 
e£.  tilt',  be  glad;  rejoice. 


I  build  my  nest  on  the  mountain's  crest, 
Where  the  wild  winds  rock  my  eaglets  to  rest, 
Where  the  lightnings  flash  and  the  thunders  crash, 
And  the  roaring  torrents  foam  and  dash ; 
For  my  spirit  free  henceforth  shall  be 
A  type  of  the  sons  of  Liberty. 

Aloft  I  fly  from  my  aerie  high, 

Through  the  vaulted  dome  of  the  azure  sky; 

On  a  sunbeam  bright  take  my  airy  flight, 

And  float  in  a  flood  of  liquid  light ; 

For  I  love  to  play  in  the  noontide  ray, 

And  bask  in  a  blaze  from  the  throne  of  day. 

Away  I  spring  with  a  tireless  wing, 

On  a  feathery  cloud  I  poise  and  swing ; 

I  dart  down  the  steep  where  the  lightnings  leap, 

And  the  clear,  blue  canopy  swiftly  sweep ; 

For  dear  to  me  is  the  revelry 

Of  a  free  and  fearless  Liberty. 

I  love  the  land  where  the  mountains  stand 
Like  the  watch-towers  high  of  a  patriot  band ; 
For  I  may  not  bide  in  my  glory  and  pride, 
Though  the  land  be  never  so  fair  and  wide, 


FIFTH    READER.  1OS 

Where  Luxury  reigns  o'er  voluptuous  plains, 
And.  fetters  the  free-born  soul  in  chains. 

Then  give  to  me  in  my  nights  to  see 

The  land  of  the  pilgrims  ever  free ! 

And  I  never  will  rove  from  the  haunts  I  love, 

But  watch,  from  my  sentinel  track  above, 

Your  banner  free,  o'er  land  and  sea, 

And  exult  in  your  glorious  Liberty. 

O,  guard  ye  well  the  land  where  I  dwell, 

Lest  to  future  times  the  tale  I  tell, 

When  slow  expires  in  smouldering  fires 

The  goodly  heritage  of  your  sires,— 

How  Freedom's  light  rose  clear  and  bright 

O'er  fair  Columbia's N  beacon  height, 

Till  ye  quenched  the  flame  in  a  starless  night. 

Then  will  I  tear,  from  your  pennon  fair, 

The  stars  ye  have  set  in  triumph  there ; 

My  olive  branch  on  the  blast  I'll  launch, 

The  fluttering  stripes  from  the  flag-staff  wrench, 

And  away  I'll  flee,  for  I  scorn  to  see,  . 

A  craven  race  in  the  land  of  the  free ! 

Notes  and  Questions.  — The  American  Eagle  is  used  as  an  em- 
blem of  freedom.  Mention  some  of  our  coins  upon  which  it  is 
placed. 

Columbia  is  a  name  applied  to  the  United  States  in  honor  of 
Columbus,  the  discoverer  of  America. 

Describe  the  flag  of  our  country.  What  does  each  star  stand 
for?  How  many  stripes  are  used?  What  do  the  colors  signify? 

Elocution* — Bead  the  lesson  in  a  full  and  clear  tone  of  voice, 
expressive  of  courage  and  a  sense  of  freedom. 

Language.— What  is  the  force  of  the  suffix  et  in  the  word 
eaglet?  In  some  words  the  letter  I  is  prefixed  to  the  sufllx,  mak- 
ing it  let,  as  in  stream-let,  wave-let. 

Such  words  as  roar  and  crash  are  called  mi  met'ic,  because  their 
sound  gives  an  idea  of  their  meaning. 


106  FIFTH    HEADER. 


2O.  —  AN      ICEBERG. 


ir  rgg'u  lar,  not  well  formed. 
•eav'i  ti^§,  hollow  places. 
pln'na-el^§,  high  points. 
eTe  ment,  portion. 
•com  blnfyi',  joined;  united. 


(il§),  islands. 
he^v'ing,  swelling;  rising. 
a  stern',  behind  a  ship. 
un  -eo^th',  awkward;  strange. 
sub  llm'i  ty,  nobleness;  awe. 


At  twelve  o'clock  we  went  below,  and  had  just 
got  through  dinner  when  the  cook  put  his  head 
down  the  companion-way N,  and  told  us  to  come 
on  deck  and  see  the  finest  sight  we  had  ever  seen. 

"Where  away,  cook?"  asked  the  first  man  who 
came  up. 

"On  the  portN  bow." 

And  there,  floating  in  the  ocean,  several  miles  off, 
lay  an  immense  irregular  mass,  its  tops  and  points 
covered  with  snow,  and  its  center  of  a  deep  indigo 
color.  This  was  an  iceberg,  and  of  the  largest  size, 
as  one  of  our  men  said  who  had  been  in  the  North- 
ern Ocean. 

As  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  the  sea  in  every 
direction  was  of  a  deep  blue  color,  the  waves  run- 
ning high  and  fresh,  and  sparkling  in  the  light ; 
and  in  the  midst  lay  this  immense  mountain  island, 
its  cavities  and  valleys  thrown  into  deep  shade,  and 
its  points  and  pinnacles  glittering  in  the  sun.  All 
hands  were  soon  on  deck,  looking  at  it,  and  ad- 
miring its  beauty  and  grandeur. 

]STo  description  can  give  any  idea  of  the  strange- 
ness and  beauty  of  the  sight.  Its  great  size— for  it 
must  have  been  two  or  three  miles  in  circumfer- 
ence, and  several  hundred  feet  in  height ;  its  slow 
motion  as  its  base  rose  and  sunk  in  the  water,  and 


FIFTH    READER  1O7 

its  high  points  nodded  against  the  clouds ;  the  dash- 
ing of  the  waves  upon  it,  which,  "breaking  high 
with  foam,  lined  its  base  with  a  white  crust;  and 
the  thundering  sound  of  the  crackling  mass,  and 
the  breaking  and  tumbling  down  of  huge  pieces, 
as  well  as  its  nearness  and  approach,  which  added 
a  slight  element  of  fear— all  combined  to  give  it 
the  character  of  true  sublimity. 

The  main  body  of  the  mass  was,  as  I  have  said, 
of  an  indigo  color,  its  base  crusted  with  frozen 
foam ;  and  as  it  grew  thin  and  transparent  toward 
the  edges,  its  color  shaded  off  from  a  deep  blue  to 
the  whiteness  of  snow.  It  seemed  to  be  drifting 
slowly  toward  the  north,  so  that  we  kept  away  and 
avoided  it.  It  was  in  sight  all  the  afternoon,  and 
when  we  got  to  leeward  of  it,  the  wind  died  away, 
so  that  we  lay  to,  quite  near  it,  for  the  greater 
part  of  the  night. 

Unfortunately  there  was  no  moon ;  but  it  was  a 
clear  night,  and  we  could  plainly  mark  the  long, 
regular,  heaving  mass,  as  its  edges  moved  slowly 
against  the  stars.  Several  times  in  our  watch  loud 
cracks  were  heard,  which  sounded  as  though  they 
must  have  run  through  the  whole  length  of  the 
iceberg,  and  several  pieces  fell  down  with  a  thun- 
dering crash,  plunging  heavily  into  the  sea.  To- 
ward morning  a  strong  breeze  sprung  up,  and  we 
filled  away,  and  left  it  astern,  and  at  daylight  it 
was  out  of  sight. 

No  pencil  has  ever  yet  given  any  thing  like  the 
true  effect  of  an  iceberg.  In  a  picture  they  are  huge, 
uncouth  masses  stuck  in  the  sea ;  while  their  chief 
beauty  and  grandeur— their  slow,  stately  motion, 
the  whirling  of  the  snow  about  their  summits,  and 


108  FIFTH    READER. 

the  fearful  groaning  and  crackling  of  their  parts^ 
the  picture  can  not  give.  This  is  the  large  iceberg; 
while  the  small  and  distant  islands,  floating  on  the 
smooth  sea,  in  the  light  of  a  clear  day,  look  like 
little  floating  fairy  isles  of  sapphire N. 

R.  H.  DANA,  JR. 


Biography.  —  Richard  Henry  Dana,  jr.,  was  born  at  Cambridge 
Massachusetts,  in  1815,  and  died  in  1881. 

When  about  twenty  years  of  age,  he  made  a  voyage  to  San 
Francisco,  an  account  of  which  was  published  in  1840  under  the 
title  of  "Two  Tears  Before  the  Mast."  Probably  no  other  book 
has  been  written  which  gives  such  an  accurate  picture  of  sailor- 
life  ;  and  its  popularity,  both  in  this  country  and  in  England, 
has  been  remarkable. 

Mr.  Dana  was  for  many  years  a  distinguished  member  of  the 
Boston  Bar,  but  his  national  reputation  is  due  to  his  books. 
"The  Seaman's  Friend,"  containing  a  treatise  on  practical  sea- 
manship, was  published  in  1841,  and  republished  in  London  in 
1856. 

Notes.—  Port  signifies  the  side  of  a  boat  which  is  at  the  left 
hand  of  a  person  looking  toward  the  bow. 

The  companion-way  is  the  name  of  a  staircase  leading  from 
the  deck  to  the  cabin  of  a  ship. 

Sapphire  is  a  gem  of  a  bluish  color. 

Elocution.  —  The  long  sentences  used  in  description,  should  be 
read  somewhat  more  slowly  than  conversation.  The  pauses, 
both  grammatical  and  rhetorical,  should  be  carefully  regarded. 

Point  out  the  location  of  the  rhetorical  pauses  in  the  last 
paragraph  of  the  lesson. 

Language.— Let  us  select  a  subject  and  a  predicate  from  the 
lesson  and  join  them  to  form  a  sentence. 

Example. —  "A  breeze"  (subject)  " sprung  up "  (predicate).  Add- 
ing an  adjective  to  the  subject  and  an  adverbial  phrase  to  the  predi- 
cate, we  have 

"A  strong  breeze  sprung  up  toward  morning." 

This  is  called  a  simple  sentence  because  it  contains  only  a  single 
subject  and  a  single  predicate. 

If  we  join  to  this  sentence  another  sentence— "We  sailed 
away,"  and  use  a  connecting -ivord  "and"  between  them,  we  shall 
have  a  compound  sentence. 

Compose  two  compound  sentences,  after  the  model  just  given. 


FIFTH    READER.  1O9 


ex  96's^'iv^  ly,  in  an  extreme  de- 
gree. 


£/.-THE     EMPEROR'S     NEW     CLOTHES. 

ex  pa'ti  at  ed  (eks  pa'shi  at  ed), 
talked  at  length. 

•eoun'sel^d,  advised. 

rSt'i  nu^,  a  train  of  attendants. 

en  chant7  ed,  delighted  in  a  high 
degree. 

de  ri'  slv^,  mocking;  scornful. 


',  agreed. 
im  p61'i  tl-e,  unwise. 


(gor'jtis),  beautiful; 


In  vlg'i  bl^,  unable  to  be  seen. 

In  ages  long  past  there  lived  an  emperor  who 
was  excessively  fond  of  new  clothes.  He  spent  at 
least  half  of  his  time  in  his  wardrobe,  looking  at 
his  costly  robes,  and  trying  on  one  after  another, 
to  see  which  best  pleased  his  fancy. 

One  day  there  came  to  his  capital  two  clever 
rogues  who  declared  that  they  were  weavers,  and 
able  to  produce  a  fabric  surpassing  every  other  in 
color  and  design,  but  that  the  clothes  made  from 
it  had  the  wonderful  property  of  becoming  invis- 
ible to  any  one  who  was  unfit  for  the  office  he  held, 
or  unworthy  of  the  esteem  of  his  fellow-men. 

"  What  capital  clothes  those  would  be ! "  thought 
the  emperor.  "If  I  wore  such  clothes,  I  should  be 
able  to  see  what  men  in  my  empire  are  unfit  for 
their  posts  and  unworthy  of  my  confidence.  Yes, 
I  will  have  a  suit  of  those  clothes  made  directly." 
So  orders  were  given  to  the  two  rogues  to  begin 
at  once. 

As  for  them,  they  put  up  a  loom  and  pretended 
to  be  working ;  but  in  reality  it  was  all  a  pretense. 
They  demanded  the  finest  silk  and  the  purest  gold ; 
these  they  put  in  their  pockets,  and  worked  at  their 
empty  loom  from  morning  till  night. 

"  I  should  like  to  know  how  the  weavers  are  get- 


HO  FIFTH    READER. 

ting  on  with  my  wonderful  clothes,"  thought  the 
emperor ;  "  but  I  must  send  some  one  whom  I  know 
to  "be  "both  able  and  faithful,  or  he  will  be  unable 
to  see  any  thing."  So  the  emperor  called  his  prime 
minister N,  and  sent  him  to  examine  the  marvelous 
cloth,  and  to  bring  him  a  faithful  report. 

Now  the  minister  knew  the  peculiar  property  of 
the  cloth,  but  readily  complied  with  his  royal  mas- 
ter's wishes,  for  he  felt  confident  of  his  own  fitness 
for  the  high  oflice  he  had  held  so  long. 

So  the  old  minister  entered  the  room  where  the 
two  rogues  sat  working  at  the  empty  loom.  On 
approaching,  he  opened  his  eyes  wide,  but  the  loom 
seemed  to  him  quite  empty.  " Mercy  on  me!  I 
can  not  see  any  thing  at  all ! "  he  whispered  to 
himself. 

Both  the  rogues  drew  his  attention  to  the  beauti- 
ful fabric  they  had  woven,  and  asked  him  if  he  did 
not  admire  the  brilliant  colors  and  chaste  design. 
While  speaking  they  seemed  to  be  handling  some- 
thing in  the  loom,  and  to  be  pointing  out  its  beau- 
ties; but  the  good  minister  was  grieved  that  he 
could  see  nothing.  Thinking  it  impolitic  to  let  it 
be  known  that  the  wonderful  cloth  was  invisible 
to  him,  he  peered  through  his  spectacles,  as  if  he 
saw  it,  and  occasionally  exclaimed,  "Charming!" 
"Delightful!" 

The  minister  on  returning  spoke  of  its  gorgeous 
colors  and  the  rare  beauty  of  its  design  in  the  same 
terms  that  he  had  heard  from  the  weavers. 

The  emperor,  wishing  to  put  his  officers  to  the 
test,  sent  them  one  after  another  to  witness  the 
weaving,  and  to  bring  back  a  report  of  the  prog- 
ress made  by  the  weavers,  All  of  them  were  re- 


FIFTH     READER.  Ill 

ceived  courteously  by  the  two  rogues,  who  expa- 
tiated to  their  visitors  on  the  "beauty  of  the  material 
they  had  woven,  and  all  of  them  pretended  to  be 
enchanted  with  what  they  had  witnessed. 

By  this  time  all  the  people  in  the  town  were 
talking  of  the  wonderful  fabric,  which  was  now 
supposed  to  be  nearly  completed.  Before  it  was 
taken  from  the  loom  the  emperor  wished  to  see  it 
himself.  With  a  crowd  of  courtiers,  including  all 
the  statesmen  who  had  previously  visited  the  loom, 
the  monarch  entered  the  hall,  where  the  two  cun- 
ning rogues  were  weaving  with  might  and  main 
without  warp  or  woof N. 

" What's  this?"  thought  the  emperor.  "Why,  I 
can  see  nothing  at  all !  This  is  indeed  terrible ! 
Am  I,  then,  unfit  to  be  emperor?"  But  as  the 
monarch  thought  it  would  be  very  unwise  to  con- 
fess his  inability  to  see  the  wonderful  cloth,  he 
nodded  his  head  in  a  contented  way,  and  said  aloud, 
"It  is  indeed  magnificent !  It  has  our  highest  ap- 
proval." 

The  whole  retinue  stood  round  the  loom  with 
admiring  looks,  and  re-echoed  their  sovereign's 
words.  The  ministers  present  counseled  him  to 
wear  his  new  clothes  for  the  first  time  at  the  great 
procession  that  was  soon  to  take  place. 

"It  is  splendid— charming !"  went  from  mouth 
to  mouth.  On  all  sides  there  seemed  general  satis- 
faction, and  the  emperor  gave  the  rogues  the  title 
of  Imperial  Court  Weavers  on  the  spot. 

In  the  presence  of  the  court  the  rogues  pro- 
ceeded to  take  the  cloth  from  the  looms.  They 
went  through  all  the  motions  proper  for  the  pur- 
pose, and  begged  to  be  left  for  two  days  to  prepare 


112  FIFTH     READER. 

the  royal  clothes,  after  accurately  measuring  his 
majesty's  person.  Before  the  royal  party  withdrew, 
the  rogues  were  busy  making  cuts  in  the  air  with 
great  scissors,  and  sewing  with  needles  without 
thread. 

On  the  appointed  day  the  Imperial  Court  Weav- 
ers sought  the  emperor's  dressing-room  with  the 
wonderful  clothes.  The  emperor  entered  with  his 
chief  attendants,  and  proceeded  to  put  on  his  new 
robes,  after  removing  all  his  upper  garments.  The 
two  rogues,  lifting  up  one  arm  as  if  they  were 
holding  something,  said,  "See!  here  is  the  waist- 
coat !  here  is  the  coat !  here  is  the  cloak ! "  and  so 
on. 

The  two  rogues  then  proceeded  to  put  on  the 
new  clothes  with  the  greatest  care ;  the  emperor,  on 
receiving  each  garment,  turned  round  and  round 
"before  the  mirror,  and  seemed  to  "be  highly  pleased 
with  the  effect.  All  the  courtiers  present  expressed 
their  satisfaction,  and  seemed  to  gaze  on  his  majesty 
with  admiration. 

The  emperor,  arrayed  in  his  new  robes,  descended 
the  grand  staircase  to  mount  his  horse  and  join 
the  procession.  The  two  chamberlains N,  whose  office 
it  was  to  carry  the  train,  stooped  down  and  pre- 
tended to  be  holding  something  in  the  air.  They 
did  not  dare  let  it  be  thought  that  they  saw  noth- 
ing to  hold. 

So  the  emperor  mounted  his  horse,  and  the  pro- 
cession moved  forward.  Every  eye  was  strained  to 
catch  a  glimpse  of  the  beautiful  robes  of  which  so 
much  had  been  heard,  and  every  one  was  on  the 
tiptoe  of  delighted  expectation.  ISTor  did  they  seem 
disappointed,  for  no  one  wished  it  to  be  known 


FIFTH    READER.  113 

that  he  failed  to  see  tlie  wonderful  clothes.  So 
on  the  procession  moved,  amid  the  delighted  ap- 
plause of  the  crowd. 

At  last  a  little  child  cried  out  in  a  shrill  voice, 
"  How  funny !  he  has  nothing  on  but  his  hat,  shirt, 
and  trousers ! " 

That  word  of  simple  truth  broke  the  spell,  and 
in  a  moment  more  the  emperor  in  his  new  clothes 
was  greeted  with  the  derisive  cheers  of  the  mob. 

HANS  ANDERSEN. 


Biography. — Hans  Christian  Andersen,  the  Danish  poet  and 
author,  was  born  in  1805,  and  died  in  1875. 

Owing  to  poverty,  the  education  of  the  poet  was  begun  some- 
what later  in  life  than  is  usual,  and  he  did  not  enter  upon  his 
academic  studies  until  he  was  twenty-three  years  old.  Before 
that  time,  however,  he  had  given  evidence  of  his  wonderful 
powers  in  the  composition  of  a  number  of  poems.  One  of  these, 
"The  Dying  Child,"  attracted  general  attention. 

The  greater  part  of  Andersen's  life  was  devoted  to  travel ; 
and  in  this  way,  he  became  master  of  a  great  number  of  the 
legends  current  in  different  parts  of  Europe. 

Probably  there  are  few  writers  of  the  century,  whose  works 
Will  stand  the  test  of  time  better  than  those  of  Andersen.  His 
writings  are  in  a  style  peculiarly  pleasing  to  young  readers. 
Among  his  works,  which  are  generally  read  in  this  country,  are 
"Picture  Book  without  Pictures,"  "Tales  from  Jutland,"  and 
"Tales  for  Children." 

Notes.  — A  prime  minister  is  the  chief  adviser  of  a  king  or 
queen. 

A  chamberlain  is  a  high  officer  of  a  court. 

Warp  means  the  threads  extended  lengthwise  in  a  loom. 
Woof  means  the  threads  which  cross  the  warp  in  weaving. 

Language.  — Select  from  the  lesson  three  simple  sentences;  two 
compound  sentences. 

If  a  sentence  has  either  its  subject  or  predicate  modified  by 
another  sentence,  used  either  as  an  adverb  or  adjective,  it  is  called 
a  complex  sentence,  as  "The  child  tvho  cried  out,  was  honest." 
Here  we  have  the  sentence  (clause)  "who  cried  out"  used  as  a 
modifier  of  child,  a  nanu'-trowl,  arid  hence  an  adjective. 

Select  two  complex  sentences  frojn  the  lesson. 


114  FIFTH    READER* 


22.  —  THE     SUNBEAM. 


lln'ger  er,  one  who  lags  or  loi- 


ters. 


,  pleased;  made  glad. 


•easement,  window  opening  on 


change. 
mdr'tal,  human  being. 


Thou  art  no  lingerer  in  monarch's  hall: 
A  joy  thoTi  art  and  a  wealth  to  all; 
A  "bearer  of  hope  unto  land  and  sea: 
Sunbeam,  what  gift  hath  the  world  like  thee? 

Thou  art  walking  the  billows,  and  ocean  smiles; 
Thou  hast  touched  with  glory  his  thousand  isles ; 
Thou  hast  lit  up  the  ships,  and  the  feathery  foam, 
And  gladdened  the  sailor  like  words  from  home. 

To  the  solemn  depths  of  the  forest  shades 
Thou  art  streaming  on  through  their  green  arcades, 
And  the  quivering  leaves  that  have  caught  thy  glow, 
Like  fireflies  glance  to  the  pools  "below. 

I  looked  on  the  mountains:   a  vapor  lay 
Folding  their  heights  in  its  dark  array; 
Thou  breakest  forth,  and  the  mist  "became 
A  crown  and  a  mantle  of  living  flame. 

I  looked  on  the.  peasant's  lowly  cot: 
Something  of  sadness  had  wrapped  the  spot; 
But  a  gleam  of  thee  on  its  casement  fell, 
And  it  laughed  into  "beauty  at  that  "bright  spell. 


FIFTH    READER.  115 

Sunbeam  of  summer,  O,  what  is  like  thee, 
Hope  of  the  wilderness,  joy  of  the  sea ! 
One  thing  is  like  thee,  to  mortals  given— 
The  faith  touching  all  things  with  hues  of  heaven. 

MRS.  HEMANS. 

Biography.  —  Felicia  Dorothea  Hemans,  an  English  poetess,  was 
born  at  Liverpool  in  1794,  and  died  at  Dublin  in  1835. 

The  first  volume  of  her  poems  was  published  when  she  was 
fourteen  years  of  age ;  and  the  second,  when  she  was  eighteen. 

Mrs.  Hemans'  style  is  both  natural  and  pleasing.  Her  poem 
"Casablanca"  is  one  of  the  most  popular  in  the  English  language. 

Among  her  works,  maybe  mentioned:  "The  Siege  of  Valencia," 
"The  Last  Constantino,"  and  "Hymns  for  Childhood." 

Language.  — This  poem,  in  which  the  Sunbeam  is  repeatedly 
addressed  as  a  person,  is  an  example  of  the  figure  Apds'trophe. 

Apostrophe  signifies  a  turning  away  from  the  ordinary  form 
of  address ;  an  inanimate  object  is  regarded  as  a  person,  or  what 
is  distant  as  near  at  hand. 

Point  out  two  metaphors  in  the  second  stanza. 


23.  —  PAPER. 


sub  j&et'ed,  brought  under  the 

action  of. 

dl  ver7  si  ty,  variety. 
•eu'i  rasl§',  (kwe  ras'),  apiece  of 

armor  covering  the  body. 
ml  nut^',  very  smatt. 

bl^,  capable  of  being  lent. 


•eon  ver'sion,  making;  chang- 
ing. 

•eom  pet^',  strive. 
ad  her^'>  stick  fast. 
transversely,  crosswise. 
rgm'nants,  small  portions, 
-co  he's,  ion  (zhun),  uniting. 

Egypt,  China,  and  Japan,  are  the  countries  in 
which  the  earliest  manufacture  of  paper  is  known 
to  have  been  carried  on.  The  Egyptian  paper  was 
made  of  the  plant  called  papyrus,N  a  kind  of  grass. 
According  to  the  information  handed  down  to  us, 
the  delicate  inner  fibers  were  'separated  from  the 
blade  of  the  grass,  and  spread  upon  a  table  in  such 
a  manner  that  they  overlapped  one  another. 


116  FIFTH    READER. 

The  table  was  sprinkled  with  water  from  the 
Nile,  which  had,  no  doubt,  the  effect  of  moistening 
the  natural  gum  of  the  plant  so  as  to  make  the 
fibers  adhere.  When  this  first  layer  of  papyrus  fiber 
was  complete,  succeeding  layers  were  laid  upon  it 
transversely,  until  the  paper  was  sufliciently  thick. 
These  layers  were  then  pressed  together,  and  the 
sheet  of  paper  was  dried  in  the  sun. 

The  best  quality  was  preserved  for  religious  uses, 
and  not  allowed  to  be  exported.  The  Romans,  how- 
ever, discovered  a  process  of  cleansing  this  kind  of 
paper  from  the  marks  of  writing,  and  after  this 
discovery  they  imported  from  Egypt  sacred  books 
written  on  this  material,  which  they  used  for  their 
own  purposes,  after  the  original  writing  had  been 
removed. 

Besides  the  papyrus,  there  are  remnants  of  an- 
cient paper  made  of  the  inner  bark  of  trees.  Egyp- 
tian paper  was  in  general  use  in  Europe  until  the 
eighth  or  ninth  century.  It  then  slowly  began  to 
give  place  to  paper  manufactured  from  cotton  and 
other  materials,  the  art  of  making  which  was  ap- 
parently learned  by  the  Arabs  in  Asia,  and  intro- 
duced by  them  into  Europe. 

This  manufacture  had  probably  spread  to  West- 
ern Asia  from  China,  where  it  is  known  to  have 
existed  at  a  very  early  period.  Paper  was  made  by 
the  Chinese  from  some  materials  at  least  as  early 
as  the  beginning  of  the  first  century,  and,  accord- 
ing to  their  own  account,  the  fabrication  of  paper 
from  cotton  appears  to  have  been  invented  about 
200  A.  D. 

The  materials  that  have  been  used  for  the  manu- 
facture of  paper  are  very  numerous.  In  China, 


FIFTH    READER.  117 

Where  much  of  the  paper  made  is  of  very  excellent 
quality,  different  materials  are  used  in  different 
provinces.  HempN  and  linen N  rags  are  used  in  one 
part  of  the  country;  the  inner  "bark  of  the  mul- 
berry-tree in  another;  and  in  other  parts,  the  "bark 
of  the  elm,  straw,  bamboo,  etc, 

The  Japanese  make  use  principally  of  a  kind  of 
mulberry-tree,  and  the  paper  manufactured  by  them 
is  unequaled  for  strength  and  softness,  qualities 
which  enable  it  to  be  used  for  many  purposes  for 
which  leather  is  commonly  employed  elsewhere, 
such  as  the  making  of  ladies'  reticules. 

The  natives  of  Mexico,  before  the  Spanish  Con- 
quest, made  their  paper  from  the  leaves  of  the 
agave N  plant,  or  American  aloe,  in  a  manner  resem- 
bling the  ancient  mode  of  preparing  papyrus. 

After  the  introduction  into  Europe  of  cotton 
and  linen  rags  as  materials  for  paper-making,  the 
use  of  other  vegetable  fibers  was  for  many  centuries 
entirely,  or  almost  entirely,  given  up ;  not  so  much, 
however,  on  account  of  their  unfitness,  as  because 
rags,  besides  being  admirably  adapted  for  the  pur- 
pose, were  cheaper  than  any  other  material. 

It  was  not  until  about  the  close  of  the  eigh- 
teenth century  that  paper  -  manufacturers  began 
again  to  turn  their  attention  to  the  possibility  of 
using  vegetable  fibers  as  substitutes  for  rags.  In 
1772,  a  G-erman  published  a  work  containing  sixty 
specimens  of  paper  made  from  different  vegetable 
substances.  From  this  time,  serious  attempts  were 
made  to  find  a  process,  by  which  some  of  these 
vegetable  materials  could  be  used  with  success  to 
replace  rags. 

The   difficulty  did  not  consist  in  the  mere  con- 


118  FIFTH    READER. 

version  into  paper  of  the  materials  on  which  ex- 
periments were  made — for  any  vegetable  fiber  with 
a  rough  edge  can  be  made  into  paper— but  in  mak- 
ing paper  out  of  them  of  such  quality  and  at  such 
a  price,  as  would  enable  the  manufactured  product 
to  compete  with  that  made  from  rags. 

Straw,  wood,  and  esparto N  grass  are  the  chief 
vegetable  fibers  which,  with  rags,  have  hitherto  been 
found  to  answer  these  conditions,  and  all  of  these 
are  now  used  more  or  less  in  paper-making.  The 
combination  of  flexible  fibers  by  which  the  paper 
is  produced,  depends  on  the  minute  subdivision  of 
the  fibers,  and  their  subsequent  cohesion. 

The  rags  used  are  chiefly  cotton  and  linen. 
Woolen  rags  are  no  longer  employed  for  the  pur- 
pose. Cotton  is  used  in  the  manufacture  of  paper 
not  only  in  the  form  of  rags,  but  also  in  that  of 
waste  or  sweepings  from  spinning  mills. 

Before  the  rags  or  other  materials  can  be  made 
into  paper,  they  must  be  torn  or  cut  into  minute 
particles  so  small  that  they  form  a  pulp  when 
mixed  with  water.  A  sheet  of  paper  is  a  thin  layer 
of  this  pulpy  matter,  mixed  with  some  kind  of  glue 
or  size  to  give  it  firmness,  and  then  dried. 

The  invention  of  the  machine  for  paper-making 
is  due  to  a  Frenchman,  and  a  patent  was  obtained 
for  it  by  the  inventor  from  the  French  Government 
in  1799.  A  method  of  treating  straw  so  as  to  make 
it  capable  of  being  manufactured  into  paper,  was 
invented  at  the  beginning  of  the  present  century. 
Various  improvements  have  since  been  effected,  and 
there  are  now  mills  which  produce  no  other  kind  of 
paper  than  that  made  mostly  from  straw  and  wood- 
pulp;  but  the  best  and  most  important  use  of  wood 


FIFTH    READER.  119 

and  straw  in  paper-making,  is  to  impart  stiffness  to 
the  paper. 

Two  processes  have  been  patented  for  the  manu- 
facture of  paper  entirely  from  wood.  By  the  first 
process  the  wood  is  reduced  to  a  pulp  by  means  of 
chemicals.  By  the  other  process  the  pulp  is  ob- 
tained by  merely  grinding  down  the  wood  and  mix- 
ing it  with  water  during  the  operation. 

Esparto,  or  Spanish  grass,  and  the  kindred  plant 
called  alfa,  which  is  brought  from  Algeria,  have 
been  applied  to  paper-making  only  in  comparatively 
recent  years.  The  use  of  rushes  for  paper-making 
belongs  to  this  country,  and  dates  from  the  year 
1866.  The  paper  made  from  this  material  is  white, 
firm,  and  of  good  quality,  and  considerably  cheaper 
than  that  made  from  wood. 

Blotting  paper  is  made  in  the  same  way  as  ordi- 
nary paper,  except  that  the  sizing  is  omitted.  Paste- 
board is  made  from  coarse  paper  by  pasting  several 
sheets  together,  or  by  laying  the  sheets  above  one 
another  when  fresh  from  the  mold  and  uniting 
them  by  pressure.  This  second  method  is  much  the 
better  of  the  two,  as  the  sheets  cohere  more  firmly. 
Pasteboard  made  in  the  other  way  is  very  apt  to 
split  into  separate  sheets  when  subjected  to  unusual 
heat. 

Nothing  is  more  remarkable  than  the  great  num- 
ber and  diversity  of  new  uses  that  have  been  found 
for  paper  in  recent  years.  Besides  being  largely 
employed  for  making  collars,  cuffs,  and  other  articles 
of  dress,  it  is  sometimes  used  for  making  small 
houses  in  the  backwoods  of  our  Western  States  and 
territories,  which  are  found  to  be  warmer  than 
those  made  of  wood  or  sheet  iron.  It  is  used  also 


12O  FIFTH    READER. 

for  making  boats,  pipes,  tanks,  and  pails  for  water; 
cuirasses  firm  enough  to  resist  musket-balls,  wheels 
for  railway  carriages,  and  even  "bells  and  cannon 
have  been  made  of  it. 

Notes  and  Questions.  —  The  word  pape*  is  derived  from,  the 
word  pa  p^'rus. 

The  aga've  or  American  al'o^  is  a,  plant  requiring  from  ten  to 
seventy  years  to  reach  maturity.  It  then  produces  a  gigantic 
flower-stem  forty  feet  in  height,  and  perishes. 

The  es  par'  to  is  a  kind  of  rush  grown  in  Spain,  and  used  in 
the  making  of  ropes,  baskets,  shoes,  etc. 

Hemp  is  the  fibrous  covering  of  a  plant,  and  is  used  in  making 
cloth  and  cordage. 

linen  is  thread  or  cloth  made  from  flax  or  hemp. 

What  is  the  location  of  the  follpwing  countries  — Egypt,  China, 
Japan,  Algeria  ? 

Language.— A  rSt'i-eule  is  a  small  "bag  to  "be  carried  in  the 
hand. 

Q-ive  two  words  ending  in  cule  and  show  the  force  of  the 
suffix;  also,  two  words  ending  in  cle  and  show  the  force  of  the 
suffix. 


..  —  THE     SOLDIER'S     REPRIEVE. 


par§y,  destroy  action  of. 

e  ter'ni  ty,  the  state  which  begins 
at  death. 

In  ter  rttpt'ed,  broke  in, 

re  pr\ev^',  suspension  of  punish- 
ment. 


ter^d,  recorded. 
fer'vent  ly,  in  a  devotional  man- 


ner. 


fal'ter^d,  stammered;  hesitated. 
jus'ti  fy,    free   from    guilt    or 
blame. 


blanched,  pale;  color  taken  out.      -eul'  pa  bl^,  worthy  of  blame. 

"I  thought,  Mr.  Allen,  when  I  gave  my  Bennie 
to  his  country,  that  not  a  father  in  all  this  broad 
land  made  so  precious  a  gift,— no,  not  one.  The 
dear  boy  only  slept  a  minute— just  one  little  min- 
ute—at his  post:N  I  know  that  was  all,  for  Bennie 
never  dozed  over  a  duty.  How  prompt  and  trust- 
worthy he  was! 


FIFTH    READER. 


"I  know  he  fell  asleep  only  one  little  second;— 
he  was  so  young,  and  not  strong,  that  "boy  of  mine! 
Why,  he  was  as  tall  as  I,  and  only  eighteen  !  and 
now  they  shoot  him  "because  he  was  found  asleep 
when  doing  sentinel  duty!  Twenty-four  hours, 
the  telegram  said,—  only  twenty-four  hours.  Where 
is  Bennie  now?" 

"We  will  hope  with  his  Heavenly  Father,"  said 
Mr.  Allen,  soothingly. 

"Yes,  yes,  let  us  hope;   God  is  very  merciful. 

"'I  should  "be  ashamed,  father/  Bennie  said, 
'when  I  was  a  man,  to  think  I  never  used  this 
great  right  arm,'—  and  he  held  it  out  so  proudly 
before  me,—  'for  my  country,  when  it  needed  it. 
Palsy  it  rather  than  keep  it  at  the  plow.' 

'"Go,  then,  my  "boy!'  I  said,  'and  God  keep 
you!'  God  has  kept  him,  I  think,  Mr.  Allen;"  and 
the  farmer  repeated  those  last  words  slowly,  as  if, 
in  spite  of  his  reason,  his  heart  doubted  them. 

"Like  the  apple  of  his  eye,  Mr.  Owen,  doubt  it 
not  !  " 

Blossom  sat  near  them,  listening  with  blanched 
cheeks.  She  had  not  shed  a  tear.  Her  anxiety  had 
been  so  concealed  that  no  one  had  noticed  it.  She 
had  occupied  herself  mechanically  in  the  house- 
hold cares.  ISTow  she  answered  a  gentle  tap  at  the 
kitchen  door,  opening  it  to  receive  from  a  neigh- 
bor's hand  a  letter.  "It  is  from  him,"  was  all  she 
said. 

It  was  like  a  message  from  the  dead  !  Mr.  Owen 
took  the  letter,  but  could  not  break  the  envelope 
on  account  of  his  trembling  fingers,  and  held  it 
toward  Mr.  Allen,  with  the  helplessness  of  a  child. 

The  minister  opened  it  and  read  as  follows— 


FIFTH    READER. 


"  3)ear  Father;—  When  this  reaches  you,  I  shall 
be  in  eternity.  At  first,  it  seemed  awful  to  me; 
"but  I  have  thought  about  it  so  much  now  that  it 
has  no  terror.  They  say  that  they  will  not  "bind 
me,  nor  "blind  me;  "but  that  I  may  meet  my  death 
like  a  man.  I  thought,  father,  that  it  might  have 
"been  on  the  "battle-field,  for  my  country,  and  that, 
when  I  fell,  it  would  "be  fighting  gloriously  ;  "but 
to  be  shot  down  like  a  dog  for  nearly  betraying 
it,—  to  die  for  neglect  of  duty!  O  father,  I  wonder 
the  very  thought  does  not  kill  me  !  But  I  shall 
not  disgrace  you.  I  am  going  to  write  you  all 
about  it;  and  when  I  am  gone,  you  may  tell  my 
comrades  ;  I  can  not  now. 

"You  know  I  promised  Jemmie  Carr's  mother  I 
would  look  after  her  boy;  and,  when  he  fell  sick, 
I  did  all  I  could  for  him.  He  was  not  strong  when 
he  was  ordered  back  into  the  ranks,  and  the  day 
before  that  night,  I  carried  all  his  baggage,  besides 
my  own,  on  our  march.  Toward  night  we  went 
in  on  double-quick**,  and  the  baggage  began  to  feel 
very  heavy.  Every  body  was  tired  ;  and  as  for 
Jemmie,  if  I  had  not  lent  him  an  arm  now  and 
then,  he  would  have  dropped  by  the  way. 

"I  was  all  tired  out  when  we  came  into  camp; 
and  then  it  was  Jemmie's  turn  to  be  sentry,  and  I 
would  take  his  place;  but  I  was  too  tired,  father. 
I  could  not  have  kept  awake  if  a  gun  had  been 
pointed  at  my  head  ;  but  I  did  not  know  it  until  — 
well,  until  it  was  too  late." 

"G-od  be  thanked!"  interrupted  Mr.  Owen,  rever- 
ently. "I  knew  Beniiie  was  not  the  boy  to  sleep 
carelessly." 

"They    tell    me    to-day    that    I   have   a   short  re- 


The  Soldier's   Reprieve.     (See  pacje  120.) 


FIFTH    READER.  123 

prieve— given  to  me  by  circumstances— 'time  to 
write  to  you,'  our  good  Colonel  says.  Forgive  Mm, 
father,  he  only  does  his  duty;  he  would  gladly 
save  me  if  he  could ;  and  do  not  lay  my  death  up 
against  Jemmie.  The  poor  boy  is  broken-hearted, 
and  does  nothing  but  beg  and  entreat  them  to  let 
him  die  in  my  stead. 

"I  can't  bear  to  think  of  mother  and  Blossom. 
Comfort  them,  father!  Tell  them  I  die  as  a  brave 
boy  should,  and  that,  when  the  war  is  over,  they 
will  not  be  ashamed  of  me,  as  they  must  be  now. 
God  help  me;  it  is  very  hard  to  bear!  Good-by, 
father ! 

4 'To-night,  in  the  early  twilight,  I  shall  see  the 
cows  all  coming  home  from  pasture,  and  precious 
little  Blossom  standing  on  the  back  stoop,N  waiting 
for  me,— but  I  shall  never,  never  come!  God  bless 
you  all!  Forgive  your  poor  Bennie." 

Late  that  night  the  door  of  the  "back  stoop" 
opened  softly,  and  a  little  figure  glided  out  and 
down  the  foot-path  to  the  road  that  led  by  the 
mill.  She  seemed  rather  flying  than  walking,  turn- 
ing her  head  neither  to  the  right  nor  the  left, 
looking  only  now  and  then  to  Heaven,  and  fold- 
ing her  hands,  as  if  in  prayer. 

Two  hours  later  the  same  young  girl  stood  at 
Mill  Depot,*  watching  the  coming  of  the  night 
train;  and  the  conductor,  as  he  reached  down  to 
lift  her  into  the  car,  wondered  at  the  tear-stained 
face  that  was  upturned  toward  the  dim  lantern  he 
held  in  his  hand.  A  few  questions  and  ready 
answers  told  him  all;  and  no  father  could  have 
cared  more  tenderly  for  his  only  child  than  he 
did  for  our  little  Blossom. 


124  FIFTH    READER. 

She  was  on  her  way  to  Washington  to  ask  Presi- 
dent Lincoln  for  her  "brother's  life,  She  had  stolen 
away,  leaving  only  a  note  to  tell  her  father  where 
and  why  she  had  gone.  She  had  taken  Bennie's 
letter  with  her.  No  good,  kind  heart,  like  the 
President's,  could  refuse  to  "be  melted  by  it.  The 
next  morning  they  reached  New  York,  and  the 
conductor  hurried  her  on  to  Washington.  Every 
minute,  now,  might  "be  the  means  of  saving  her 
brother's  life.  And  so,  in  an  incredibly  short  time, 
Blossom  reached  the  capital,  and  hastened  imme- 
diately to  the  White  House. 

The  President  had  but  just  seated  himself  at  his 
morning's  task  of  looking  over  and  signing  impor- 
tant papers,  when,  without  one  word  of  announce- 
ment, the  door  softly  opened,  and  Blossom,  with 
downcast  eyes  and  folded  hands,  stood  before 
him. 

"Well,  my  child,"  he  said,  in  his  pleasant,  cheer 
ful  tones,  "what  do  you  want  so  bright   and  early 
in  the  morning?" 

"Bennie's  life,  please,  sir,"  faltered  Blossom. 

"Bennie?'    Who  is  Bennie?" 

"My  brother,  sir.  They  are  going  to  shoot  him 
for  sleeping  at  his  post." 

"O  yes,"  and  Mr.  Lincoln  ran  his  eye  over  the 
papers  before  him.  "I  remember!  It  was  a  fatal 
sleep.  You  see,  child,  it  was  at  a  time  of  special 
danger.  Thousands  of  lives  might  have  been  lost 
through  his  culpable  negligence." 

"So  my  father  said,"  replied  Blossom,  gravely; 
"but  poor  Bennie  was  so  tired,  sir,  and  Jemmie  so 
weak.  He  did  the  work  of  two,  sir,  and  it  was 
Jemmie's  night,  not  his;,  but  Jemmie  was  too  tired, 


FIFTH    READER.  125 

and  Bennie  never  thought  about  himself— that  he 
was  tired  too." 

"What  is  this  you  say,  child?  Come  here;  I  do 
not  understand,"  and  the  kind  man  caught  eagerly, 
as  ever,  at  something  to  justify  the  offense. 

Blossom  went  to  him :  he  put  his  hand  tenderly 
on  her  shoulder,  and  turned  up  the  pale,  anxious 
face  toward  his.  How  tall  he  seemed,  and  he  was 
President  of  the  United  States  too.  A  dim  thought 
of  this  kind  passed  through  Blossom's  mind;  but 
she  told  her  simple  and  straightforward  story,  and 
handed  Mr.  Lincoln  Bennie's  letter  to  read. 

He  read  it  carefully ;  then,  taking  up  his  pen, 
wrote  a  few  hasty  lines,  and  rang  his  bell. 

Blossom  heard  this  order  given:  "Send  this 
dispatch  at  once." 

The  President  then  turned  to  the  girl  and  said: 
"Go  home,  my  child,  and  tell  that  father  of  yours, 
who  could  approve  his  country's  sentence,  even 
when  it  took  the  life  of  a  child  like  that,  that 
Abraham  Lincoln  thinks  the  life  far  too  precious 
to  be  lost.  Go  back,  or— wait  until  to-morrow; 
Bennie  will  need  a  change  after  he  has  so  bravely 
faced  death;  he  shall  go  with  you." 

"God  bless  you,  sir,"  said  Blossom;  and  who 
shall  doubt  that  God  heard  and  registered  the 
request  ? 

Two  days  after  this  interview,  the  young  soldier 
came  to  the  White  House  with  his  little  sister. 
He  was  called  into  the  President's  private  room, 
and  a  strap  fastened  upon  the  shoulder. N  Mr.  Lin- 
coln then  said:  "The  soldier  that  could  carry  a 
sick  comrade's  baggage,  and  die  for  the  act  without 
complaining,  deserves  well  of  his  country." 


126  FIFTH    READER. 

Tlien  Bennie  and  Blossom  took  their  way  to 
their  G-reen  Mountain14  home.  A  crowd  gathered  at 
the  Mill  Depot  to  welcome  them  "back ;  and  as 
farmer  Owen's  hand  grasped  that  of  his  "boy,  tears 
flowed  down  his  cheeks,  and  he  was  heard  to  say 

fervently,  "The  Lord  "be  praised." 

MRS.  R.  D.  C.  ROBBINS. 

Notes.— A  soldier  who  is  found  asleep  at  Ms  post  when  doing 
duty  as  a  sentinel,  is  usually  sentenced  to  be  shot. 

Double-quick  means  the  fastest  time  or  step  in  marching,  next 
to  the  run. 

A  stoop,  as  used  in  the  lesson,  means  either  a  number  of  steps 
leading  to  the  door  of  a  house ;  or,  a  porch  with  a  railing 
around  it. 

The  Green,  Mountains  are  in  the  State  of  Vermont. 

Depot  (depo'  or  dS'po)  is  a  word  often  used  in  some  parts  of 
this  country  to  signif  /  a  railway  station.  The  popular  meaning 
of  depot  in  the  United  States  seems  to  be  a  place  where  cars  and 
freight  are  kept,  and  from  which  trains  start ;  and  station,  any 
other  stopping-place  on  a  railway. 

A.  strap  upon  the  shoulder  is  the  badge  of  a  commissioned  officer 
either  in  the  army  or  navy.  As  employed  in  the  lesson,  the 
expression  means  that  Bennie  was  made  a  lieutenant. 


25.—  OUR      COUNTRY. 


nftrt'ur^d,  fed;  brought  up. 
am'pl^,  large;  great  in  size. 
en  am'  el^d,  covered;  painted. 


ty'rant,  cruel  ruler. 

hi  r^'  ling,  one  serving  for  wages. 

boun'te  ^us,  plentiful. 


Our  country !   '  tis  a  glorious  land  ! 

With  broad  arms  stretched  from  shore  to  shore; 
The  proud  Pacific  chafes  her  strand, 

She  hears  the  dark  Atlantic  roar; 
And,  nurtured  on  her  ample  "breast, 

How  many  a  goodly  prospect  lies 
In  Nature's  wildest  grandeur  drest, 

Enameled  with  her  loveliest  dyes! 


FIFTH    READER.  127 

Rich,  prairies,  decked  with  flowers  of  gold, 

Like  sunlit  oceans  roll  afar ; 
Broad  lakes  her  azure  heavens  behold, 

Reflecting  clear  each  trembling  star: 
And  mighty  rivers,  mountain-born, 

Go  sweeping  onward,  dark  and  deep, 
Through  forests  where  the  bounding  fawn 

Beneath  their  sheltering  brandies  leap. 

And,  cradled  'mid  her  clustering  hills, 

Sweet  vales  in  dream-like  beauty  hide, 
Where  love  the  air  with  music  fills, 

And  calm  content  and  peace  abide ; 
For  plenty  here  her  fullness  pours 

In  rich  profusion  o'er  the  land, 
And,  sent  to  seize  her  generous  stores, 

There  prowls  no  tyrant's  hireling  band. 

Great  God!   we  thank  Thee  for  this  home  — 

This  bounteous  birth-land  of  the  free; 
Where  wanderers  from  afar  may  come, 

And  breathe  the  air  of  liberty. 
Still  may  her  flowers  untrampled  spring, 

Her  harvests  wave,  her  cities  rise; 
And  yet,  till  time  shall  fold  his  wing, 

Remain  Earth's  loveliest  Paradise! 

W.  J.  PARBODIE. 

Elocution.— With  what  tone  of  voice  should  this  lesson  be  read? 

Language.  — What  simile  occurs  in  the  second  stanza? 

"  Calm  content  and  peace  abide "  is  an  expression  containing 
either  the  figure  personification,  in  case  we  think  of  "content" 
and  "peace"  as  persons;  or,  me  ton'y  my,  if  we  regard  "content" 
and  "peace"  simply  as  qualities  used  instead  of  the  possessors 
of  those  qualities. 

Metonymy  signifies  a  change  of  name,  one  word  being  used  for 
another  on.  account  of  a  close  relationship  between  them, 


128  FIFTH    READER. 


.  — BEE-HUNTERS. 


s£m  I  ptr'-eu  lar,    hamng    the 

form  of  half  a  circle. 
ere^p'er,  a  plant  which  clings  to 

something  for  support. 
h6r  i  z6n'tal,  level. 
pas' si  v^,  not  opposing;  inactive. 


sta'pe  fl^d,  made  senselest. 
su-e  9§s/siv^  ly,   one  after  an 

other. 

lus'ci^tis  (lush' us),  sweet, 
im  mu'ni  ty,  freedom. 
per'se  -eut  ing,  annoying. 


One  of  tlie  most  important  and  valuable  prod- 
ucts of  the  Island  of  Timor,  in  the  Malay  Archi- 
pelago, is  "bees-wax.  This  is  formed  by  the  wild 
bees,  which  build  huge  honey-combs,  suspended  in 
the  open  air  from  the  under  side  of  the  lofty 
branches  of  the  highest  trees.  These  combs  are  of 
semicircular  form,  and  often  three  or  four  feet  in 
diameter. 

I  once  saw  the  natives  take  a  bees'  nest,  and  a 
very  interesting  sight  it  was.  In  the  valley  where 
I  used  to  collect  insects,  I  one  day  noticed  three  or 
four  men  and  boys  under  a  high  tree,  and  looking 
up,  saw  on  a  very  lofty  horizontal  branch,  three  large 
bees'  combs. 

The  tree  was  straight  and  smooth-barked  and 
without  a  branch,  till  at  seventy  or  eighty  feet 
from  the  ground  it  gave  out  the  limb  which  the 
bees  had  chosen  for  their  home. 

As  the  men  were  evidently  looking  for  honey,  I 
waited  to  watch  their  operations.  One  of  them  first 
produced  a  long  piece  of  wood,  apparently  the  stem 
of  a  small  tree  or  creeper,  which  was  very  tough  and 
stringy,  and  began  splitting  it  through  in  several 
directions.  He  then  wrapped  it  in  palm-leaves, 
which  were  recured  by  twisting  a  slender  creeper 
round,  them. 


FIFTH    READER.  129 

He  then  fastened  his  cloth  tightly  around  his 
waist,  and  producing  another  cloth  wrapped  it 
around  his  head,  neck,  and  body,  and  tied  it  firmly, 
leaving  his  face,  arms,  and  legs  completely  bare. 
Slung  to  his  girdleN  he  carried  a  long  coil  of  thin 
cord;  and  while  he  had  been  making  these  prepara- 
tions, one  of  his  companions  had  cut  a  strong 
creeper,  or  bush-rope,  eight  or  ten  yards  long,  to 
one  end  of  which  a  wood  torch  was  fastened.  It 
was  then  lighted  at  the  bottom,  and  emitted  a 
steady  stream  of  smoke.  Just  above  the  torch  a 
chopping-knife  was  fastened  with  a  short  cord. 

The  bee-hunter  now  took  hold  of  the  bush-rope 
just  above  the  torch,  and  passed  the  other  end 
around  the  trunk  of  the  tree,  holding  one  end  in 
each  hand.  Jerking  it  above  the  tree  a  little  above 
his  head,  he  set  his  foot  against  the  trunk,  and 
leaning  back  began  walking  up  it.  It  was  wonder- 
ful to  see  the  skill  with  which  he  took  advantage 
of  the  slightest  irregularities  of  the  bark  or  in- 
clination of  the  stem  to  aid  his  ascent,  jerking  the 
stiff'  creeper  a  few  feet  higher  when  he  had  found 
a  firm  hold  for  his  bare  feet. 

It  almost  made  me  giddy  to  look  at  him  as  he 
rapidly  got  up— thirty,  forty,  fifty  feet  above  the 
ground;  and  I  kept  wondering  how  he  could  possi- 
bly mount  the  next  few  feet  of  straight  smooth 
trunk.  Still,  however,  he  kept  on  with  as  much 
coolness  and  apparent  certainty  as  if  he  were  going 
up  a  ladder,  till  he  had  got  within  ten  or  fifteen 
feet  of  the  bees. 

Then  he  stopped  a  moment  and  took  care  to  swing 
the  torch,  which  hung  just  at  his  feet,  a  little  to- 
ward these  dangerous  insects,  so  as  to  send  up  the 


ISO  FIFTH    READER. 

stream  of  smoke  "between  him  and  them.  Still  go- 
ing on,  in  a  minute  more  he  brought  himself  under 
the  limb,  and,  in  a  manner  that  I  could  not  uii- 
.derstand,  seeing  that  both  hands  were  occupied  in 
supporting  himself  by  the  creeper,  managed  to  get 
upon  it. 

By  this  time  the  bees  began  to  be  alarmed,  and 
formed  a  dense  buzzing  swarm  just  over  him,  but 
he  brought  the  torch  up  closer  to  him,  and  coolly 
brushed  away  those  that  settled  on  his  arms  and 
legs.  Then  stretching  himself  along  the  limb,  he 
crept  toward  the  nearest  comb  and  swung  the  torch 
just  under  it.  The  moment  the  smoke  touched  it, 
its  color  changed  in  a  most  curious  manner  from 
black  to  white,  the  myriads  of  bees  that  had  cov- 
ered it  flying  off  and  forming  a  dense  cloud  above 
and  around. 

The  man  then  lay  at  full  length  along  the  limb, 
and  brushed  off  the  remaining  bees  with  his  hand, 
and  then  drawing  his  knife,  cut  off  the  comb  at 
one  slice  close  to  the  tree,  and  attaching  the  thin 
cord  to  it,  let  it  down  to  his  companions  below. 

He  was  all  this  time  enveloped  in  a  swarm  of 
angry  bees,  and  how  he  bore  their  stings  so  coolly, 
and  went  on  with  his  work  at  that  giddy  height 
so  deliberately,  was  more  than  I  could  understand. 
The  bees  were  evidently  not  stupefied  by  the  smoke 
or  driven  away  far  by  it,  and  it  was  impossible 
that  the  small  stream  from  the  torch  could  protect 
his  whole  body  when  at  work. 

There  were  three  other  combs  on  the  same  tree, 
and  all  were  successively  taken,  and  furnished  the 
whole  party  with  a  luscious  feast  of  honey  and, 
young  bees,  as  well  as  a  valuable  lot  of  wa.x. 


FIFTH    READER.  131 

After  two  of  the  combs  had  "been  let  down,  the 
bees  became  rather  numerous  below,  flying  about 
wildly  and  stinging  viciously.  Several  got  about 
me,  and  I  was  soon  stung,  and  had  to  run  away, 
beating  them  off  with  my  net,  and  capturing  them 
for  specimens.  Several  of  them  followed  me  for  at 
least  half  a  mile,  getting  into  my  hair  and  perse- 
cuting me  in  a  most  determined  manner,  so  that  I 
was  more  astonished  than  ever  at  the  immunity 
of  the  natives. 

I  am  inclined  to  think  that  slow  and  deliberate 
motion,  and  no  attempt  to  escape,  are  perhaps  the 
best  safeguards.  A  bee  settling  on  a  passive  native 
behaves  as  it  would  on  a  tree  or  other  inanimate 
substance,  and  does  not  attempt  to  sting.  Still 
these  men  must  often  suffer  and  learn  to  bear  the 
pain  impassively,  as  without  doing  so  no  man 

could  be  a  bee-hunter. 

A.  R.  WALLACE. 


Notes  and  Questions.  —  A   girdle   is   a  band   of  cloth   or  leather 
which  encircles  the  body  at  the  waist. 
Where  is  the  Ma  lay'  Archipelago  ? 

Language. — A  pronoun,  is  a  word  used  instead   of  a  name-word 

(noun). 

What  word  is  used  instead  of  "bee-hunter"  in  the  second  and 
third  sentences  of  the  fifth  paragraph  ? 

Does  the  use  of  the  word  "he"  save  the  repetition  of  the 
name-word  ? 

What,  then,  is  one  of  the  uses  of  a  pronoun? 

Who  is  the  author  of  the  lesson  ?  What  word  does  he  use 
instead  of  his  name  ?  Why  ? 

I,  thou,  he,  she,  and  it  are  called  jwtional  pronouns  and  take 
the  place  of  name-words;  tvho,  tvhich  and  what,  interrogative  pro- 
nouns, when  used  in  questions;  «<•/<«,  which,  and  that  (also  what 
*=that  ichich),  relative  pronouns  when  joining  the  words  they  in- 
troduce to  a  preceding  word  called  an  antecedent. 

Composition.— Give  a  short  description   of  the  way  in  which, 
are  kept  in.  this  country. 


132  FIFTH    READER, 


27.  —  THE     COAST    OF    NORWAY. 


in  \in'dat^,  flood;  overflow. 
plan'  ets,  bodies  whichrevolveabout 
(he  sun. 

stel  la'  tion§,    groups    of 


fixed  stars- 


,  move  to  and  fro. 
un  moor§',  looses  from  anchor. 


,  reflected. 
h6s'pi  ta  bl^,  kind  to  stranger* 


perpSt'ual,    unending;   never 

ceasing. 

spin'  y,  futt  of  thorns. 
de  fl'anf^,  in  opposition  to. 


Every  one  who  has  looked  at  the  map  of  Norway 
must  have  been  struck  with  the  singular  character 
of  its  coast.  On  the  map  it  looks  so  jagged,  such  a 
strange  mixture  of  land  and  sea,  that  it  appears  as 
if  there  must  be  a  perpetual  struggle  between  the 
two— the  sea  striving  to  inundate  the  land,  and  the 
land  pushing  itself  out  into  the  sea,  till  it  ends  in 
their  dividing  the  region  between  them.  On  the 
spot,  however,  this  coast  is  very  fine. 

The  long,  straggling  promontories  are  mountain- 
ous, towering  ridges  of  rock,  springing  up  in  preci- 
pices from  the  water ;  while  the  bays  between  them, 
instead  of  being  rounded  with  shelving,  sandy 
shores  on  which  the  sea  tumbles  its  waves,  as  in 
bays  of  our  coast,  are,  in  fact,  long,  narrow  valleys, 
filled  with  sea,  instead  of  being  laid  out  in  fields 
and  meadows.  The  high,  rocky  banks  shelter  these 
deep  bays,  called  fiords x,  from  almost  every  wind, 
so  that  their  waters  are  usually  as  still  as  those  of 
a  lake. 

For  days  and  weeks  together,  they  reflect  each 
separate  tree-top  of  the  pine  forests  which  clothe 
the  mountain  sides,  the  mirror  being  broken  only 
by  the  leap  of  some  sportive  flsh,  or  the  oars  of 


FIFTH 


the  boatman  as  he  goes  to  hunt  the  sea-fowl  from 
islet  to  islet  of  the  fiord,  or  carries  out  his  nets  or 
his  rod  to  catch  the  sea-trout,  cod,  or  herring, 
which  abound  in  their  seasons  on  the  coast  of  Nor- 
way. 

It  is  difficult  to  say  whether  these  fiords  are 
more  beautiful  in  the  summer  or  the  winter.  In 
summer,  they  glitter  with  golden  sunshine  ;  and  pur- 
ple and  green  shadows  from  the  forest  and  mountain 
lie  on  them;  and  these  may  be  more  lovely  than 
the  faint  light  of  the  winter  noons  of  those  lati- 
tudes, and  the  snowy  pictures  of  frozen  peaks  which 
then  show  themselves  on  the  surface  ;  but  before 
the  day  is  half  over,  out  come  the  stars,—  the  glori- 
ous stars  —  which  shine  like  nothing  we  have  ever 
seen. 

There  the  planets  cast  a  faint  shadow,  as  the 
young  moon  does  with  us  ;  these  planets,  and  the 
constellations  of  the  sky,  as  they  silently  glide  over 
from  peak  to  peak  of  these  rocky  passes,  are  imaged 
on  the  waters  so  clearly  that  the  fisherman,  as  he 
unmoors  his  boat  for  his  evening  task,  feels  as  if 
he  were  about  to  shoot  forth  his  vessel  into  another 
heaven,  and  to  cleave  his  way  among  the  stars. 

Still  as  everything  is  to  the  eye,  sometimes  for 
a  hundred  miles  together  along  these  deep  sea  val- 
leys, there  is  rarely  silence.  The  ear  is  kept  awake 
by  a  thousand  voices.  In  the  summer  there  are 
cataracts  leaping  from  ledge  to  ledge  of  the  rocks  ; 
and  there  is  the  bleating  of  the  kids  that  browse  ; 
and  the  flap  of  the  great  eagle's  wings,  as  it  dashes 
abroad  from  its  aerie  ;  and  the  cries  of  whole  clouds 
of  sea-birds  that  inhabit  the  islets  ;  and  all  these 
sounds  are  mingled  and  multiplied  by  the  strong 


134  FIFTH    READER. 

echoes,  till  they  become  a  din  as  loud  as  that  of  a 
city. 

Even  at  night,  when  the  flocks  are  in  the  fold, 
and  the  "birds  at  roost,  and  the  echoes  themselves 
seem  to  be  asleep,  there  is  occasionally  a  sweet  music 
heard,  too  soft  for  even  the  listening  ear  to  catch 
by  day. 

Every  breath  of  summer  wind  that  steals  through 
the  pine  forests,  wakes  this  music  as  it  goes.  The 
stiff,  spiny  leaves  of  the  nr  and  pine  vibrate  with 
the  breeze,  like  the  strings  of  a  musical  instrument, 
so  that  every  breath  of  the  night  wind,  in  a  Nor- 
wegian forest,  wakens  a  myriad  of  tiny  harps ;  and 
this  gentle  and  mournful  music  may  be  heard  in 
gushes  the  whole  night  through. 

This  music,  of  course,  ceases  when  each  tree  be- 
comes laden  with  snow ;  but  yet  there  is  a  sound 
in  the  midst  of  the  longest  winter  night.  There 
is  the  rumble  of  some  avalanche,  as,  after  a  drifting 
storm,  a  mass  of  snow,  too  heavy  to  keep  its  place, 
slides  and  tumbles  from  the  mountain  peak.  There 
is  also,  now  and  then,  a  loud  crack  of  the  ice  in 
the  nearest  glacier  ;N  and,  as  many  declare,  there  is  a 
crackling  to  be  heard  by  those  who  listen  when  the 
Northern  Lights  are  shooting  and  blazing  across 
the  sky. 

Nor  is  this  all.  Wherever  there  is  a  nook  among 
the  rocks  on  the  shore  where  a  man  may  build  a 
house,  and  clear  a  field  or  two ;  wherever  there  is 
a  platform  beside  the  cataract  where  the  sawyer 
may  plant  his  mill,  and  make  a  path  from  it  to 
join  some  great  road,— there  is  a  human  habita- 
tion and  the  sounds  that  belong  to  it.  Thence,  in 
winter  nights,  come  music  and  laughter  and  the 


FIFTH    READER.  133 

tread  of  dancers,  and  the  hum  of  many  voices. 
The  Norwegians  are  a  social  and  hospitable  people ; 
and  they  hold  their  gay  meetings,  in  defiance  of 
their  arctic  climate,  through  every  season  of  the 

year. 

HARRIET  MARTINEAU. 

Biography.— Harriet  Martineau  was  born  at  Norwich  (nor'rYj), 
England,  in  1802,  and  died  in  1876. 

Miss  Martineau  received  an  excellent  education  and  entered 
upon  a  literary  life.  The  acuteness  of  her  powers  of  observation 
was  due  to  her  careful  training  in  early  youth.  The  loss  of  hear- 
ing more  than  any  other  reason,  caused  her  to  shun  society  and 
devote  her  time  to  travel.  Few  persons  have  viewed  understand- 
ingly  so  much,  or  have  given  us  the  results  of  their  observation 
in  so  pleasing  and  useful  a  form. 

Notes.— Fiord  is  pronounced  as  a  single  syllable  — fy or d ; 
glacier  is  pronounced  either  as  gla'seer  or  gl&s'ier. 

Language.  — Add  the  suffix  ive  to  the  following  words  and  then 
define  the  -words  so  formed :  — Sport,  act,  invent,  attract. 

Employ  each  of  the  words  just  formed  in  a  sentence,  showing 
its  proper  meaning. 


£<9.-KENTUCKY     BELLE. 


for  16rn',  solitary;  miserable. 
wlst'ful,    eager  to  know;  anx- 
iously attentive. 
jad'ed,  tired;  wearied. 

,  bent;  inclined  to  one  side. 


troop'  er§,  mounted  soldiers;  cav- 
alry. 

sap' ling,  a  young  tree. 
bat'  ter^d,  worn  by  use. 

public  road  or  way. 


Summer  of  'sixty-three,  sir,  and  Conrad  was  gone  away  — 
Gone  to  the  county-town,  sir,  to  sell  our  first  load  of  hay  — 
We  lived  in  the  log-house  yonder,  poor  as  ever  you've  seen  ; 
Roschen,  there,  was  a  baby,  and  I  was  only  nineteen. 

Conrad,  he  took  the  oxen,  but  he  left  Kentucky  Belle  ; 
How  much  we  thought  of  Kentuck,  I  couldn't  begin  to  tell  — 
Came  from  the  Blue-grass  N  country ;  my  father  gave  her  to  me 
When  I  rode  north  with  Conrad,  away  from  the  Tennessee. 


136  FIFTH    READER. 

Conrad  lived  in  Ohio  — a  German  he  is,  you  know  — 
The  house  stood  in  "broad  corn  fields,  stretching  on,  row  after  row. 
The  old  folks  made  me  welcome  ;  they  were  kind  as  kind  could  be ; 
But  I  kept  longing,  longing  for  the  hills  of  the  Tennessee. 

O,  for  a  sight  of  water,  the  shadowed  slope  of  a  hill  1 
Clouds  that  hang  on  the  summit,  a  wind  that  never  is  still ! 
But  the  level  land  went  stretching  away  to  meet  the  sky  — 
Never  a  rise  from  north  to  south,  to  rest  the  weary  eye  ! 

From  east  to  west,  no  river  to  shine  out  under  the  moon, 
Nothing  to  make  a  shadow  in  the  yellow  afternoon  ; 
Only  the  breathless  sunshine,  as  I  looked  out,  all  forlorn  ; 
Only  the  "rustle,  rustle,"  as  I  walked  among  the  corn. 

When  I  fell  sick  with  pining,  we  didn't  wait  any  more, 
But  moved  away  from  the  corn-lands  out  to  this  river  shore  — 
The  TuscarawasN   it's  called,  sir  — off  there's  a  hill,  you  see  — 
And  now  I've  grown  to  like  it  next  best  to  the  Tennessee. 

I  was  at  work  that  morning.     Some  one  came  riding  like  mad 
Over  the  bridge  and  up  the  road— Farmer  Roufs  little  lad: 
Bareback  he  rode  ;   he  had  no  hat ;  he  hardly  stopped  to  say, 
"  Morgan's N    men  are  coming,  FrauN;   they're  galloping  on    this 
way. 

"I'm  sent  to  warn  the  neighbors.     He  isn't  a  mile  behind; 
He  sweeps  up  all  the  horses  — all  the  horses  that  he  can  find,— 
Morgan,  Morgan  the  Haider,  and  Morgan's  terrible  men, 
With  bowie-knife  and  pistols,  are  galloping  up  the  glen." 

The  lad  rode  down  the  valley,  and  I  stood  still  at  the  door  ; 
The  baby  laughed  and  prattled,  playing  with  spools  on  the  floor  ; 
Kentuck  was  out  in  the  pasture  ;   Conrad,  my  man,  was  gone  ; 
Nearer,  nearer  Morgan's  men  were  galloping,  galloping  on  ! 

Sudden  I  picked  up  baby,  and  ran  to  the  pasture  bar  : 
"Kentuck!"  I  called;    "Kentucky!"     She  knew  me  ever  so  far! 
I  led  her  down  to  the  gully  that  turns  off  there  to  the  right, 
And  tied  her  to  the  bushes  ;  her  head  was  just  out  of  sight. 


FIFTH    READER.  137 

As  I  ran  back  to  the  log-house,  at  once  there  came  a  sound— 
The  ring  of  hoofs,  galloping  hoofs,  trembling  over  the  ground — 
Coming  into  the  turnpike  out  from  the  White- Woman  Glen  — 
Morgan,  Morgan  the  Raider,  and  Morgan's  terrible  men. 

As  near  they  drew  and  nearer,  my  heart  beat  fast  in  alarm  ; 

But  still  I  stood  in  the  doorway,  with  baby  on  my  arm. 

They  came  ;  they  passed ;  with  spur  and  whip  in  haste  they  sped 

along  — 
Morgan,  Morgan  the  Raider,  and  hij  band  six  hundred  strong. 

Weary  they  looked  and  jaded,  riding  through  night  and  day ; 
Pushing  on  east  to  the  river,  many  long  miles  away. 
To  the  border-strip  where  Virginia  runs  up  into  the  west, 
And  ford  the  upper  Ohio  before  they  could  stop  to  rest. 

On  like  the  wind  they  hurried,  and  Morgan  rode  in  advance  : 
Bright  were  his  eyes  like  live  coals,   as  he  gave  me  a  sideways 

glance  ; 

And  I  was  just  breathing  freely,  after  my  choking  pain, 
When  the  last  one  of  the  troopers  suddenly  drew  his  rein. 

Frightened  I  -was  to  death,  sir  ;  I  scarce  dared  look  in  his  face, 
As  he  asked  for  a  drink  of  water  and  glanced  around  the  place. 
I  gave  him  a  cup  and  he  smiled— 'twas  only  a  boy,  you  see  — 
Faint    and  worn,   with    dim    blue    eyes ;   and  he'd  sailed  on  the 
Tennessee. 

Only  sixteen  he  was,  sir  — a  fond  mother's  only  son  — 
Off  and  away  with  Morgan  before  his  life  had  begun  I 
The  damp  drops  stood  on  his  temples ;  drawn  was  the  boyish 

mouth ; 
And  I  thought  me  of  the  mother  waiting  down  in  the  South ! 

O,  pluck  was    he  to    the  backbone,   and   clear  grit  through  and 

through  ; 

Boasted  and  bragged  like  a  trooper  ;  but  the  big  words  wouldn't  do ; 
The  boy  was  dying,  sir,  dying,  as  plain  as  plain  could  be, 
Worn  out  by  his  ride  with  Morgan  up  from  the  Tennessee. 


138  FIFTH    READER. 

But,  when  I  told  the  laddie  that  I  too  was  from  the  South, 
Water  came  in  his  dim  eyes,  and  quivers  round  his  mouth  : 
"Do  you  know  the  Blue-grass  country?"  he  wistfully  began  to 

say; 
Then  swayed  like  a  willow  sapling,  and  fainted  dead  away. 

I  got  him  into  the  log-house,  and  worked,  and  brought  him  to  ; 
I  fed  him,  and  coaxed  him,  as  I  thought  his  mother'd  do  ; 
And,    when   the   lad   got   better,   and   the   noise   in   his  head   was 

gone, 
Morgan's  men  were  miles  away,  galloping,  galloping  on. 

"O,  I  must  go,"  he  muttered;    "I  must  be  up  and  away! 
Morgan,-  Morgan  is  waiting  for  me  !     O,  what  will  Morgan  say  ? " 
But  I  heard  a  sound  of  tramping,  and  kept  him  back  from  the 

door— 
The  ringing  sound  of  horses'  hoofs  that  I  had  heard  before. 

And  on,  on  came  the  soldiers— the  Michigan  cavalry  — 

And  fast  they  rode,  and  black  they  looked,  galloping  rapidly. 

They   had   followed  hard  on   Morgan's   track ;   they   had   followed 

day  and  night ; 
But  of  Morgan  and  Morgan's    raiders,    they  had  never  caught   a 

sight. 

And  rich  Ohio  sat  startled  through  all  those  summer  days  ; 
For  strange,  wild  men  were  galloping  over  her  broad  highways  ; 
Now  here,  now  there,  now  seen,  now  gone,  now  north,  now  east, 

now  west, 
Through  river-valleys  and  corn-land  farms,  sweeping  away  her 

best. 

A  bold  ride  and  a  long  ride  !     But  they  were  taken  at  last ; 

They  almost  reached  the  river  by  riding  hard  and  fast ; 

But  the  boys  in  blue  were  upon   them  ere  ever  they  gained  the 

ford, 
And  Morgan,  Morgan  the  Haider,  laid  down  his  terrible  sword. 

Well,  I  kept  the  boy  till  evening  — kept  him  against  his  will  — 
But  he  was  too  weak  to  follow,  and  sat  there  pale  and  still : 
When  it  was  cool  and  dusky  — you'll  wonder  to  hear  me  tell  — 
But  I  stole  down  to  that   gully  and  brought  up  Kentucky  Belle. 


FIFTH    READER.  139 

I  kissed  the  star  on  her  forehead— my  pretty,  gentle  lass  — 
But  I  knew  that  she'd  "be  happy  back  in  the  old  Blue-grass  : 
A  suit  of  clothes  of  Conrad's,  with  all  the  money  I  had, 
And  Kentuck,  pretty  Kentuck,  I  gave  to  the  worn-out  lad. 

I  guided  him  to  the  southward  as  well  as  I  knew  how  : 

The    boy   rode    off   with    many    thanks,    and    many    a    backward 

bow ; 

And  then  the  glow  it  faded,  and  my  heart  began  to  swell, 
As  down  the  glen  away  she  went,  my  lost  Kentucky  Belle  1 

When  Conrad  came  in  the  evening,  the  moon  was  shining  high ; 
Baby  and  I  were  both  crying  — I  couldn't  tell  him  why  — 
But  a  battered  suit  of  clothing  gray  was  hanging  on  the  wall, 
And   a   thin   old   horse  with   drooping  head   stood  in  Kentucky's 
stall. 

Well,  he  was  kind,  and  never  once  said  a  hard  word  to  me ; 
He  knew  I  couldn't  help  it  — it  was  all  for  Tennessee  : 
But,  after  the  war  was  over,  just  think  what  came  to  pass  — 
A    letter,    sir ;    and    the    two  were    safe,    back    in    the    old    Blue- 
grass. 

The  lad  had  got  across  the  border,  riding  Kentucky  Belle ; 
And  Kentuck  she  was  thriving,  and  fat,  and  hearty,  and  well1, 
He   cared  for  her,  and  kept  her,  nor  touched  her  with  whip  or 

spur : 
Ah  !   we've  had  many  horses,  but  never  a  horse  like  her  I 

CONSTANCE  FENIMORE  WOOLSON. 

Biography.  —  Constance  Fenimore  Woolson  is  a  well-known 
contributor  to  periodical  literature.  Among  her  works,  may  be 
mentioned:  "Castle  Nowhere,"  "Rodman,  the  Keeper,"  "South- 
ern Sketches,"  "Two  Women"  (a  poem),  and  "Lake  County 
Sketches." 

Notes.  — The  Confederate  general,  John  H.  Morgan,  received  the 
name  of  "The  Raider"  on  account  of  his  bold  and  usually  suc- 
cessful expeditions. 

The  Tus-eara'was  is  a  shallow  stream  of  water  in  Ohio. 

Frau  (frow)  is  a  German  word  meaning  wife. 

Blue-grass  is  a  kind  of  grass  found  in  some  parts  of  Kentucky, 
and  considered  excellent  for  horses  and  cattle. 


14O  FIFTH    HEADER. 


9.  —  LAND     AND     SEA-BREEZES. 


dls'si  pat  ed,  driven  away;  scat- 
tered. 

rSq'ui  §It^  (rek'wi-zit),  neces- 
sary. 

mag'  ni  tud^,  size;  importance. 

re  ver7  ber  at  ing,  echoing. 

sug  gSst'lv^,  full  of  thought. 


sdr'plus,    that    which    remain* 

after  use  is  satisfied. 
ra  di  a'tion,   the  casting  off  of 

waves  of  heat. 
re  mot^',  distant. 
mlt'  i  gat  ed,  lessened. 
In  vlg'or  at  ing,  refreshing. 


The  inhabitants  of  the  sea-shore  in  tropical  coun- 
tries wait  every  morning  with  impatience  for  the 
coming  of  the  sea-breeze.  It  usually  sets  in  about 
ten  o'clock.  Then  the  sultry  heat  of  the  oppressive 
morning  is  dissipated,  and  there  is  a  delightful 
freshness  in  the  air,  which  seems  to  give  new  life 
to  all  for  their  daily  labors. 

About  sunset,  there  is  again  another  calm.  The 
sea-breeze  is  now  over,  and  in  a  short  time  the  land- 
breeze  sets  in.  This  alternation  of  the  land  and  sea- 
breezes— a  wind  from  the  sea  by  day,  and  from  the 
land  by  night — is  so  regular  in  tropical  countries, 
that  it  is  looked  for  by  the  people  with  as  much 
confidence  as  the  rising  and  setting  of  the  sun. 

In  extra-tropical  countries,11  especially  those  on 
the  polar  side  of  the  trade-winds,  these  breezes  blow 
only  in  summer  and  autumn;  for  then  only  is  the 
heat  of  tho  sun  sufficiently  intense  to  produce  the 
requisite  amount  of  lightness  in  the  air  over  the 
land.  This  depends  in  a  measure  also,  upon  the 
character  of  the  land  upon  which  the  sea-breeze 
blows;  for  when  the  surface  is  arid  and  the  soil 
barren  the  heating  power  of  the  sun  is  exerted  with 


FIFTH    READER.  141 

most  effect.  In  such,  cases  the  sea-breeze  amounts 
to  a  gale  of  wind- 
In  the  summer  of  the  southern  hemisphere,  the 
sea-breeze  is  more  powerfully  developed  at  Valpa- 
raiso than  at  any  other  place  to  which  my  services 
afloat  have  led  me.  Here  regularly  in  the  afternoon, 
at  this  season,  the  sea-breeze  blows  furiously;  pebbles 
are  torn  up  from  the  walks  and  whirled  about  the 
streets;  people  seek  shelter;  business  is  interrupted, 
and  all  communication  from  the  shipping  to  the 
shore  is  cut  off. 

Suddenly,  the  winds  and  the  sea,  as  if  they  had 
again  heard  the  voice  of  rebuke,  are  hushed,  and 
there  is  a  great  calm.  The  lull  that  follows  is  de- 
lightful. The  sky  is  without  a  cloud,  and  the  at- 
mosphere is  wonderfully  transparent;  the  Andes 
seem  to  draw  near;  the  climate,  always  mild  and 
soft,  becomes  now  doubly  sweet  by  the  contrast. 
The  evening  invites  one  abroad,  and  the  population 
sally  forth— the  ladies  in  ball  costume,  for  now  there 
is  not  wind  enough  to  disarrange  the  lightest  curl. 
In  the  southern  summer,  this  change  takes  place 
day  after  day  with  the  utmost  regularity;  and  yet 
the  calm  always  seems  to  surprise  one,  and  to  come 
before  one  has  had  time  to  realize  that  the  furious 
sea-wind  could  so  soon  be  hushed.  Presently  the 
stars  begin  to  peep  out ;  timidly  at  first,  as  if  to  see 
if  the  elements  here  below  have  ceased  their  strife, 
and  whether  the  scene  on  earth  be  such  as  they, 
from  their  bright  spheres  aloft,  may  shed  their 
sweet  influence  upon. 

Alone  in  the  night-watch,  after  the  sea-breeze 
has  sunk  to  rest,  I  have  stood  on  the  deck  under 
those  beautiful  skies,  gazing,  Admiring,  wondering. 


142  FIFTH    READER. 

I  have  seen  there,  above  the  horizon  at  the  same 
time,  and  shining  with  a  splendor  unknown  to 
northern  latitudes,  every  star  of  the  first  magnitude 
—  save  only  six— that  is  contained  in  the  catalogue 
of  the  one  hundred  principal  fixed  stars  of  astron- 
omers. 

There  lies  the  city  on  the  sea-shore,  wrapped  in 
sleep.  The  sky  looks  solid,  like  a  vault  of  steel  set 
with  diamonds.  The  stillness  "below  is  in  harmony 
with  the  silence  above;  and  one  almost  fears  to 
speak  lest  the  harsh  sound  of  the  human  voice, 
reverberating  through  those  vaulted  "chambers  of 
the  south,"  should  wake  up  echo,  and  drown  the 
music  that  fills  the  soul. 

Within  the  tropics,  the  land  and  sea-breezes  are 
more  gentle;  and  though  the  night  scenes  there 
are  not  so  suggestive  as  those  just  described,  yet  they 
are  exceedingly  lovely  and  delightful.  The  oppress- 
ive heat  of  the  sun  is  mitigated,  and  the  climate 
of  the  sea-shore  is  made  both  refreshing  and  health- 
ful, by  the  alternation  of  those  winds,  which  inva- 
riably come  from  the  cooler  place — from  the  sea, 
which  is  the  cooler  by  day,  and  from  the  land, 
which  is  the  cooler  by  night. 

About  ten  in  the  morning,  the  heat  of  the  sun 
has  played  upon  the  land  with  sufficient  intensity 
to  raise  its  temperature  above  that  of  the  water. 
A  portion  of  this  heat  being  imparted  to  the  air 
above  it,  causes  it  to  rise;  when  the  air,  first  from 
the  beach  then  from  the  sea,  to  the  distance  of 
several  miles,  begins  to  flow  in  with  a  most  de- 
lightful and  invigorating  freshness. 

When  a  fire  is  kindled  on  the  hearth,  we  may 
see,  if  we  observe  the  motes N  floating  in  the  air  of 


FIFTH    READER.  143 

the  room,  that  those  nearest  to  the  chimney  are  the 
first  to  feel  the  draught,  and  to  obey  it— they  are 
drawn  into  the  flame.  The  circle  of  inflowing  air 
is  gradually  enlarged,  until  it  is  scarcely  perceived 
in  the  remote  parts  of  the  room.  Now,  the  land  is 
the  hearth ;  the  rays  of  the  sun,  the  fire ;  and  the 
sea,  with  its  cool  and  calm  air,  the  room:  and  thus 
we  have  at  our  firesides  the  sea-breeze  in  miniature. 
When  the  sun  goes  down,  the  fire  ceases;  then 
the  dry  land  commences  to  give  off  its  surplus  heat 
by  radiation,  so  that  by  dew-fall  it  and  the  air  above 
it  are  cooled  below  the  sea  temperature.  The  at- 
mosphere on  the  land  thus  becomes  heavier  than 
that  on  the  sea,  and,  consequently,  there  is  a  wind 
seaward,  which  we  call  the  land-breeze. 

LIEUT.  M.  F.  MAURY. 


Biography .  — Matthew  Fontaine  Maury  -was  born  in  Virginia 
in  1806,  and  died  in  1873. 

Maury  entered  the  U.  S.  navy  in  1825,  as  a  midshipman.  In 
1835,  he  published  his  "Treatise  on  Navigation."  In  1839  he 
was  rendered  incapable  of  active  service,  and  devoted  his  time 
to  literary  work. 

When  the  National  Observatory  at  Washington  was  erected, 
Maury  was  placed  in  charge  of  it,  and  succeeded  in  obtaining  for 
the  institution  the  favorable  attention  of  the  leading  astronomers 
of  Europe. 

Maury 's  "Wind  and  Current  Charts"  and  book  of  "Sailing 
Directions"  led  to  the  adoption  of  a  uniform  plan  of  observa- 
tions at  sea  by  all  the  great  maritime  powers  of  the  world. 

Notes.—  Extra-tropical  countries  means  those  lying  outside  of, 
cr  beyond,  the  tropics. 

Motes  are  very  small  particles  of  matter;  they  can  be  seen 
if  we  look  through  the  rays  of  sunlight  entering  a  room. 

Language. — Explain  the  force  of  the  suffix  ward  in  the  follow- 
ing words  :  —  Seaward,  homeward,  upward,  forward. 
Give  a  sentence  showing  the  meaning  of  homeward. 

Composition.  — Select  six  points  for  an  analysis  of  the  subject— 
"A  Visit  to  the  Sea-side." 


144 


FIFTH    READER. 


.— THE    FIRST    NIGHT    AT    SCHOOL. 


re  sp6n'si  bl^,  answerable;  ac- 
countable. 

exag'ger  at  ed,  increased;  made 
greater. 

dls'  9!  plln^,  order. 

jun'ior  (yur),  younger. 

fag§,  school  boys  who  perform  low 
sermcesfor  boys  in  a  higher  class. 

ddr'mi  to  ry,  a  sleeping  room. 


pr&V  o  «a'  tion,  that  which  ex- 
cites anger. 

•eor  rupt',  changed  from  a  good 
to  a  worse  state. 

ver'ger,  an  attendant. 

sufc^tl^,  sly;  cunning. 

ablu'tion§,  washing,  especially 
of  the  body. 

tes'ti  mo  ny,  witness;  proof. 


Directly  after  sch.ool-h.onse  prayers,  Tom  led 
Arthur  up  to  the  dormitory  and  showed  him  his 
bed.  It  was  a  huge,  high,  airy  room,  with  two  large 
windows  looking  on  to  the  school  close N.  There  were 
twelve  beds  in  the  room.  The  one  in  the  furthest 
corner  by  the  fire-place  was  occupied  by  the  sixth- 
form N  boy  who  was  responsible  for  the  discipline  of 
the  room,  and  the  rest  by  boys  in  the  lower-fifth 
and  other  junior  forms,  all  fags;  for  the  fifth-form 
boys  slept  in  rooms  by  themselves.  Being  fags,  the 
eldest  of  them  was  not  more  than  sixteen  years  old, 
and  they  were  all  bound  to  be  up  and  in  bed  by 
ten;  the  sixth-form  boys  went  to  bed  from  ten  to  a 
quarter  past,  at  which  time  the  old  verger  came 
round  to  put  out  the  candles,  except  when  the  boys 
sat  up  to  read. 

Within  a  few  minutes,  therefore,  of  their  entry, 
all  the  other  boys  who  slept  in  ISTo.  4  had  come  up. 
The  little  fellows  went  quietly  to  their  own  beds, 
and  began  undressing  and  talking  to  each  other  in 
whispers ;  while  the  elder,  among  whom  was  Tom, 
sat  chatting  about  on  one  another's  beds,  with  their 
jackets  and  waistcoats  off. 


FIFTH    READER.  143 

Poor  little  Arthur  was  overwhelmed  with,  the 
novelty  of  his  position.  The  idea  of  sleeping  in  a 
room  with  strange  boys  had  clearly  never  crossed 
his  mind  before,  and  was  as  painful  as  it  was  strange 
to  him.  He  could  hardly  bear  to  take  his  jacket 
off;  however,  presently,  with  an  effort,  off  it  came, 
and  then  he  paused  and  looked  at  Tom,  who  was 
sitting  at  the  bottom  of  his  bed,  talking  and 
laughing. 

"Please,  Brown,"  he  whispered,  "may  I  wash  my 
face  and  hands?" 

"Of  course,  if  you  like,"  said  Tom,  staring;  "that's 
your  wash-stand  under  the  window,  second  from 
your  bed.  You'll  have  to  go  down  for  more  water 
in  the  morning  if  you  use  it  all."  And  on  he  went 
with  his  talk,  while  Arthur  stole  timidly  from 
between  the  beds  out  to  his  wash-stand,  and  began 
his  ablutions,  thereby  drawing  for  a  moment  on 
himself  the  attention  of  the  room. 

On  went  the  talk  and  laughter.  Arthur  finished 
his  washing  and  undressing,  and  put  on  his  night- 
gown. He  then  looked  round  more  nervously  than 
ever.  Two  or  three  of  the  little  boys  were  already 
in  bed,  sitting  up  with  their  chins  on  their  knees. 
The  light  burned  clear ;  the  noise  went  on. 

It  was  a  trying  moment  for  the  poor,  little, 
lonely  boy;  however,  this  time  he  didn't  ask  Tom 
what  he  might  or  might  not  do,  but  dropped  on 
his  knees  by  his  bedside,  as  he  had  done  every  day 
from  his  childhood,  to  open  his  heart  to  Him  who 
heareth  the  cry  and  beareth  the  sorrows  of  the 
tender  child,  and  the  strong  man  in  agony. 

Tom  was  sitting  at  the  bottom  of  his  bed  un- 
lacing his  boots,  so  that  his  back  was  toward 


146  FIFTH    READER. 

Arthur,  and  he  didn't  see  what  had  happened,  and 
looked  up  in  wonder  at  the  sudden  silence.  Then 
two  or  three  boys  laughed  and  sneered;  and  a  "big, 
brutal  fellow,  who  was  standing  in  the  middle  of 
the  room,  picked  up  a  slipper,  and  threw  it  at  the 
kneeling  boy,  calling  him  a  sniveling  young  shaver. 
Then  Tom  saw  the  whole,  and  the  next  moment 
the  boot  he  had  just  pulled  off  flew  straight  at  the 
head  of  the  bully,  who  had  just  time  to  throw  up 
his  arm,  and  catch  it  on  his  elbow. 

"Confound  you,  Brown,  what's  that  for?"  roared 
he,  stamping  with  pain. 

"Never  mind  what  I  mean,"  said  Tom,  stepping 
on  to  the  floor,  every  drop  of  blood  in  his  body 
tingling;  "if  any  fellow  wants  the  other  boot,  he 
knows  how  to  get  it." 

What  would  have  been  the  result  is  doubtful, 
for  at  this  moment  the  sixth-form  boy  came  in, 
and  not  another  word  could  be  said.  Tom  and  the 
rest  rushed  into  bed  and  finished  their  disrobing 
there;  and  the  old  verger,  as  punctual  as  the  clock, 
had  put  out  the  candle  in  another  minute,  and 
toddled  on  to  the  next  room,  shutting  their  door 
with  his  usual  "Good-night,  gen'l'm'n." 

There  were  many  boys  in  that  room  by  whom 
that  little  scene  was  taken  to  heart  before  they 
slept.  But  sleep  seemed  to  have  deserted  the  pillow 
of  poor  Tom.  For  some  time  his  excitement,  and 
the  flood  of  memories  which  chased  one  another 
through  his  brain,  kept  him  from  thinking  or 
resolving.  His  head  throbbed,  his  heart  leaped,  and 
he  could  hardly  keep  himself  from  springing  out 
of  bed  and  rushing  about  the  room. 

Then    the    thought    of    his    own    mother    came 


FIFTH    READER.  147 

across  him,  and  the  promise  he  had  made  at  her 
knee,  years  ago,  never  to  forget  to  kneel  by  his 
bedside,  and  give  himself  up  to  his  Father,  before 
he  laid  his  head  on  the  pillow,  from  which  it  might 
never  rise ;  and  he  lay  down  gently  and  cried  as  if 
his  heart  would  break.  He  was  only  fourteen ' 
years  old. 

It  was  no  light  act  of  courage  in  those  days, 
my  dear  boys,  for  a  little  fellow  to  say  his  prayers 
publicly,  even  at  Rugby.  A  few  years  later,  when 
Arnold's  manly  piety  had  begun  to  leaven  the 
school,  the  tables  turned;  before  he  died,  in  the 
school-house  at  least,  and  I  believe  in  the  other 
houses,  the  rule  was  the  other  way. 

But  poor  Tom  had  come  to  school  in  other 
times.  The  first  few  nights  after  he  came  he  did 
not  kneel  down  because  of  the  noise,  but  sat  up  in 
bed  till  the  candle  was  out,  and  then  stole  out  and 
said  his  prayers,  in  fear  lest  some  one  should  find 
him  out.  So  did  many  another  poor  little  fellow. 

Then  he  began  to  think  he  might  just  as  well 
say  his  prayers  in  bed,  and  then  that  it  didn't 
matter  whether  he  was  kneeling,  or  sitting,  or 
lying  down.  And  so  it  had  come  to  pass  with  Tom 
as  with  all  who  will  not  confess  their  Lord  before 
men;  and  for  the  last  year  he  had  probably  not 
said  his  prayers  in  earnest  a  dozen  times. 

Poor  Tom!  the  first  and  bitterest  feeling  which 
was  like  to  break  his  heart  was  the  sense  of  his 
own  cowardice.  The  vice  of  all  others  which  he 
loathed,  was  brought  in  and  burned  in  on  his  own 
soul.  He  had  lied  to  his  mother,  to  his  conscience, 
to  his  God.  How  could  he  bear  it?  And  then  the 
poor,  little,  weak  boy,  whom  he  had  pitied 


148  FIFTH    READER 

almost  scorned  for  his  weakness,  had  done  that 
which  he,  braggart  as  he  was,  dared  not  do. 

The  first  dawn  of  comfort  came  to  him  in  swear- 
ing to  himself  that  he  would  stand  "by  that  boy 
through  thick  and  thin,  and  cheer  him  and  help 
him,  and  bear  his  burdens,  for  the  good  deed  done 
that  night.  Then  he  resolved  to  write  home  next 
day  and  tell  his  mother  all,  and  what  a  coward 
her  son  had  been.  And  then  peace  came  to  him,  as 
he  resolved,  lastly,  to  bear  his  testimony  next 
morning. 

The  morning  would  be  harder  than  the  night  to 
begin  with,  but  he  felt  that  he  could  not  afford  to  let 
one  chance  slip.  Several  times  he  faltered,  for  the 
devil  showed  him,  first,  all  his  old  friends  calling 
him  "saint"  and  "square-toes,"  and  a  dozen  other 
hard  names,  and  whispered  to  him  that  his  motives 
would  be  misunderstood  and  he  would  only  be  left 
alone  with  the  new  boy;  whereas  it  was  his  duty 
to  keep  all  means  of  influence,  that  he  might  do 
good  to  the  greatest  number. 

And  then  came  the  more  subtle  temptation. 
"Shall  I  not  be  showing  myself  braver  than  others 
by  doing  this?  Have  I  any  right  to  begin  it  now? 
Ought  I  not  rather  to  pray  in  my  own  study,  let- 
ting other  boys  know  that  I  do  so,  and  trying  to 
lead  them  to  it,  while  in  public  at  least  I  should 
go  on  as  I  have  done?  However,  his  good  angel 
was  too  strong  that  night,  and  he  turned  on  his 
side  and  slept,  tired  of  trying  to  reason,  but  re- 
solved to  follow  the  impulse  which  had  been  so 
strong,  and  in  which  he  had  found  peace. 

Next  morning  he  was  up  and  washed  and  dressed, 
all  but  his  jacket  and  waistcoat,  just  as  the  ten 


FIFTH    READER.  149 

minutes'  bell  began  to  ring,  and  then,  in  the  face  of 
the  whole  room,  he  knelt  down  to  pray.  Not  five 
words  could  he  say,— the  bell  mocked  him;  he  was 
listening  for  every  whisper  in  the  room,— what 
were  they  all  thinking  of  him?  He  was  ashamed 
to  go  on  kneeling,  ashamed  to  rise  from  his  knees. 

At  last,  as  it  were  from  his  inmost  heart,  a  still 
small  voice  seemed  to  breathe  forth  the  words  of 
the  publican,  "God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner!" 
He  repeated  them  over  and  over,  clinging  to  them 
as  for  his  life,  and  rose  from  his  knees  comforted 
and  humbled,  and  ready  to  face  the  whole  world. 

It  was  not  needed ;  two  other  boys  besides  Arthur 
had  already  followed  his  example,  and  he  went 
down  to  the  great  school  with  a  glimmering  of 
another  great  lesson  in  his  heart,— the  lesson  that 
he  who  has  conquered  his  own  coward  spirit  has 
conquered  the  whole  outward  world;  and  that  other 
one  which  the  old  prophet  learned  in  the  cave  in 
Mount  Horeb,  when  he  hid  his  face,  and  the  still 
small  voice  asked,  "What  doest  thou  here,  Elijah?"— 
that  however  we  may  fancy  ourselves  alone  on  the 
side  of  good,  the  King  and  Lord  of  men  is  nowhere 
without  His  witnesses ;  for  in  every  society,  however 
seemingly  corrupt  and  godless,  there  are  those  who 
have  not  bowed  the  knee  to  Baal. 

He  found  too,  how  greatly  he  had  exaggerated 
the  effect  to  be  produced  by  his  act.  For  a  few 
nights  there  was  a  sneer  or  a  laugh  when  he  knelt 
down,  but  this  passed  off  soon,  and  one  by  one  all 
the  other  boys  but  three  or  four  followed  the  lead. 
I  fear  that  this  was  in  some  measure  owing  to  the 
fact  that  Tom  could  probably  have  thrashed  any 
boy  in  the  room;  at  any  rate,  every  boy  knew  that 


ISO  FIFTH    READER. 

he  would  try  upon  very  slight  provocation,  and 
didn't  choose  to  run  the  risk  of  a  hard  fight  be- 
cause Tom  Brown  had  taken  a  fancy  to  say  his 
prayers. 

Some  of  the  small  boys  of  "No.  4  communicated 
the  new  state  of  things  to  their  chums,N  and  in 
several  other  rooms  the  poor  little  fellows  tried  to 
follow  the  example  set  by  Tom  and  Arthur— in 
one  instance  or  so,  where  one  of  the  teachers 
heard  of  it  and  interfered  very  decidedly,  with 
partial  success ;  but  in  the  rest,  after  a  short  struggle, 
the  confessors  were  bullied  or  laughed  down,  and 
the  old  state  of  things  went  on  for  some  time  longer. 

Before  either  Tom  Brown  or  Arthur  left  the 
school-house,  there  was  no  room  in  which  it  had  not 
become  the  regular  custom.  I  trust  it  is  so  still, 
and  that  the  old  heathen  state  of  things  has  gone 

out  forever. 

THOMAS  HUGHES. 


Biography,— Thomas  Hughes  (huz)  -was  born  in  Berkshire,  En- 
gland, in  1823,  and  was  educated  at  Rugby  School  and  at  Oxford 
University. 

Hughes  has  gained  popularity  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic 
as  author  of  the  two  books,  "School-days  at  Rugby"  and  "Tom 
Brown  at  Oxford." 

Notes.— A  close  is  a  small  piece  of  ground  inclosed  by  a  hedge 
or  fence. 

Form  is  the  word  used  in  England  for  class.  There  are  in  the 
public  Grammar  Schools  six  forms  or  classes,  and  Sixth-Form 
boys,  being  the  oldest,  are  in  part  selected  as  monitors  and 
assist  in  keeping  up  the  discipline  of  the  school. 

Chums  usually  means  persons  who  occupy  the  same  room ;  but 
in  this  lesson,  the  word  means  intimate  friends. 

Elocution.  —  Point  out  the  emphatic  \vords  in  the  last  paragraph. 

Should  the  last  sentence  be  read  more  slowly  than  the  rest 
of  the  lesson  ?  What  effect  is  produced  by  the  slow  reading  ? 

Select  two  other  sentences  which  may  be  rendered  more  em- 
phatic by  slow  reading. 


FIFTH    READER.  181 


«?/.-THE     BRAVE     AT     HOME. 


dis  se"m'bl^§,  conceals. 
re  eordg',  takes  notice  of. 
be  dew^d'  (dud),  moistened. 


,  makes  fast. 


re"nt,  torn. 

a  sttn'  der,  into  parts;  apart 


The  maid  who  binds  her  warrior's  sash,N 

With  smile  that  well  her  pain  dissembles, 
The  while  beneath  her  drooping  lash 

One  starry  tear-drop  hangs  and  trembles, 
Though  heaven  alone  records  the  tear, 

And  fame  shall  never  know  the  story, 
Her  heart  has  shed  a  drop  as  dear 

As  e'er  bedewed  the  field  of  glory. 

The  wife  who  girds  her  husband's  sword, 

'Mid  little  ones  who  weep  or  wonder, 
And  bravely  speaks  the  cheering  word, 

What  though  her  heart  be  rent  asunder! 
Doomed  nightly  in  her  dreams  to  hear 

The  bolts  of  death N  around  him  rattle, 
Hath  shed  as  sacred  blood  as  e'er 

Was  poured  upon  a  field  of  battle. 

The  mother  who  conceals  her  grief, 

While  to  her  breast  her  son  she  presses, 
Then  breathes  a  few  brave  words  and  brief, 

Kissing  the  patriot  brow  she  blesses, 
With  no  one  but  her  secret  God 

To  know  the  pain  that  weighs  upon  her, 
Sheds  holy  blood  as  e'er  the  sod 

Received  on  Freedom's  field  of  honor. 

T.  BUCHANAN  READ, 


FIFTH    READER. 


Biography.  —  Thomas  Buchanan  Read  was  "born  in  Chester 
County,  Pennsylvania,  in  1822,  and  died  in  New  York  City  in 
1872. 

In  1839,  Read  decided  upon  art  as  a  profession,  and  soon 
gained  distinction  as  a  portrait  painter.  He  resided  at  various 
times  in  New  York,  Philadelphia,  Boston,  and  Cincinnati ;  and 
the  last  years  of  his  life  were  passed  in  Rome,  Italy.  He  was 
the  author  of  several  volumes  of  poems,  which  have  been  much 
admired. 

Among  his  other  poems  are  the  following :  ' '  The  New  Pas- 
toral," "The  Home  by  the  Sea,"  and  "The  Wagoner  of  the 
Alleghanies." 

Notes.  — A  sash,  as  used  in  the  lesson,  means  a  band  worn 
about  the  waist  or  over  the  shoulder :  it  is  a  badge  of  distinction 
among  certain  military  officers.  What  other  well-known  mean- 
ing has  the  word? 

Bolts  of  death  means  any  missiles  of  destruction  used  in  battle, 
as  bullets,  cannon-balls,  arrows,  or  javelins. 

Language.— Use  the  following  pairs  of  words  in  sentences, 
and  show  the  difference  in  their  meaning :— Q-irds,  binds;  shed, 
pour. 


32.— THE     SAGACITY     OF     THE     SPIDER. 

sa  ga$'  i  ty,  state  of  being  wise. 
in  tr\id^§',  thrusts  one's  self  in. 
nat'u  ral  Ists,  those  who  study 

the  history  of  animals  and  plants. 
im  ped^',  place  any  difficulty  in 

the 

s61'i  tud^,  a  state  of  being  alone. 
fop'^eps,  pair  of  pincers. 


sus'te  nan9^,  food. 
glu'ti  nfcjtts,  resembling  glue. 
par'al  lei,  running  in  the  same 

direction. 
an  tag'o  nlst,  one  who  fights 

against  another;  an  enemy. 
sub  slst'ed,  fed;  lived. 
sa-e'ri  fle^d  (flzd),  destroyed  by. 


Animals  in  general  are  sagacious  in  proportion  as 
they  cultivate  society.  Elephants  and  beavers  show 
the  greatest  signs  of  this  sagacity  when  they  are 
together  in  large  numbers ;  "but  when  man  intrudes 
himself  into  their  communities,  they  lose  all  their 
spirit  of  industry,  and  indicate  but  a  very  small 
share  of  that  trait  for  which,  when  in  a  social 
state,  they  are  so  remarkable. 


FIFTH    READER.  183 

Among  insects,  the  labors  of  the  bee  and  the  ant 
have  employed  the  attention  and  admiration  of  nat- 
uralists, but  all  their  sagacity  seems  to  be  lost  upon 
separation,  and  a  single  bee  or  ant  seems  destitute 
of  every  degree  of  industry,  is  the  most  stupid  in- 
sect imaginable,  languishes  for  a  time  in  solitude, 
and  soon  dies. 

Of  all  the  solitary  insects  I  have  ever  noticed,  the 
spider  is  the  most  sagacious,  and  its  actions,  to  me, 
who  have  attentively  considered  them,  seem  almost 
to  exceed  belief.  This  insect  is  formed  by  nature 
for  war,  not  only  upon  other  insects,  but  also  upon 
its  own  species.  Nature  seems  to  have  formed  it  for 
this  condition  of  life. 

Its  head  and  breast  are  covered  with  a  strong 
natural  coat  of  mail,  which  is  impenetrable  to  the 
attacks  of  every  other  insect,  and  its  body  is  envel- 
oped in  a  soft,  pliable  skin,  which  eludes  the  sting 
even  of  a  wasp.  Its  legs  are  terminated  by  strong 
claws,  not  unlike  those  of  a  lobster ;  and  their  vast 
length,  like  spears,  serves  to  keep  every  assailant  at 
a  distance. 

Not  worse  furnished  for  observation  than  for  at- 
tack or  defense,  it  has  several  eyes,  large,  transpar- 
ent, and  covered  with  a  horny  substance,  which, 
however,  does  not  impede  its  vision.  Besides  this, 
it  is  furnished  with  a  forceps  above  the  mouth, 
which  serves  to  kill  or  secure  the  prey  already 
caught  in  its  claws  or  its  net. 

Such  are  the  implements  of  war  with  which  the 
body  is  immediately  furnished;  but  its  net  to  en- 
tangle the  enemy  seems  to  be  what  it  chiefly  trusts 
to,  and  what  it  takes  most  pains  to  render  as  com- 
plete as  possible.  Nature  has  furnished  the  body  of 


184  FIFTH    READER. 

this  little  creature  with  a  glutinous  liquid,  wMch  it 
spins  into  thread,  coarse  or  fine  as  it  chooses. 

In  order  to  fix  its  threads  when  it  "begins  to 
weave,  it  emits  a  small  drop  of  its  liquid  against 
the  wall,  which,  hardening  by  degrees,  serves  to  hold 
the  thread  very  firmly.  Then,  as  it  recedes  from 
the  first  point,  the  thread  lengthens ;  and  when  the 
spider  has  come  to  the  place  where  the  other  end  of 
the  thread  should  "be  fixed,  gathering  up  with  its 
claws  the  thread,  which  would  otherwise  "be  too  slack, 
it  is  stretched  tight  and  fixed  to  the  wall  in  the 
same  manner  as  "before. 

In  this  way  it  spins  and  fixes  several  threads 
parallel  to  one  another,  which,  so  to  speak,  serve  as 
the  warp  to  the  intended  we"b.  To  form  the  woof, 
it  spins  in  the  same  manner  its  thread,  transversely 
fixing  one  end  to  the  first  thread  that  was  spun, 
and  which  is  always  the  strongest  of  the  whole  web, 
and  the  other  to  the  wall.  All  these  threads,  being 
newly  spun,  are  glutinous,  and  therefore  stick  to 
one  another  wherever  they  happen  to  touch;  and 
in  those  parts  of  the  web  most  likely  to  be  torn,  our 
natural  artist  strengthens  them,  by  doubling  the 
threads  sometimes  six-fold. 

I  perceived,  about  four  years  ago,  a  large  spider 
in  one  corner  of  my  room,  making  its  web,  and 
though  the  servant  frequently  leveled  her  fatal 
broom  against  the  labors  of  the  little  animal,  I  had 
the  good  fortune  then  to  prevent  its  destruction. 

In  three  days  the  web  was  completed ;  nor  could 
I  avoid  thinking  that  the  insect  seemed  to  exult  in 
its  new  abode.  It  repeatedly  traversed  it  round,  and 
examined  the  strength  of  every  part  of  it,  retired 
into  its  hole,  and  came  out  very  frequently.  The 


FIFTH    READER.  155 

first  enemy,  however,  it  had  to  encounter,  was  an- 
other and  a  much  larger  spider,  which,  having  no 
we"b  of  its  own,  and  having  probably  exhausted  all 
its  stock  in  former  labors  of  this  kind,  came  to  in- 
vade the  property  of  its  neighbor. 

Soon,  then,  a  terrible  encounter  followed,  in 
which  the  invader  seemed  to  have  the  victory,  and 
the  laborious  spider  was  obliged  to  take  refuge  in 
its  hole.  Upon  this  I  perceived  the  victor  using 
every  art  to  draw  the  enemy  from  its  stronghold. 
He  seemed  to  go  off,  but  quickly  returned,  and  when 
he  found  all  his  arts  vain,  began  to  destroy  the 
new  web  without  mercy.  This  brought  on  another 
battle,  and,  contrary  to  my  expectations,  the  labori- 
ous spider  became  conqueror,  and  fairly  killed  its 
antagonist. 

Now  then,  in  peaceful  possession  of  what  was 
justly  its  own,  it  waited  three  days  with  the  utmost 
impatience,  repairing  the  breaks  of  its  web,  and 
taking  no  food  that  I  could  perceive.  At  last,  how- 
ever, a  large  blue  fly  fell  into  the  snare,  and  strug- 
gled hard  to  get  loose.  The  spider  gave  it  leave  to 
entangle  itself  as  much  as  possible,  but  it  seemed 
to  be  too  strong  for  the  cobweb. 

I  was  greatly  surprised  when  I  saw  the  spider 
immediately  sally  out,  and  in  less  than  a  minute 
weave  a  new  net  around  its  captive,  by  which  the 
motion  of  its  wings  was  stopped,  and  when  it  was 
fairly  entangled  in  this  manner,  it  was  seized  and 
dragged  into  the  hole. 

In  this  manner  it  lived,  in  a  perilous  state,  and 
nature  seemed  to  have  fitted  it  for  such  a  life ;  for 
upon  a  single  fly  it  subsisted  for  more  than  a  week. 
I  once  put  a  wasp  into  the  nest,  but  when  the 


FIFTH    READER. 


spider  came  out  to  seize  it  as  usual,  upon  perceiv- 
ing what  kind  of  an  enemy  it  had  to  deal  with, 
it  instantly  "broke  all  the  bands  that  held  it  fast, 
and  contributed  all  that  lay  in  its  power  to  dis- 
engage so  powerful  an  antagonist. 

When  the  wasp  was  at  liberty,  I  expected  that 
the  spider  would  have  set  about  repairing  the  breaks 
in  the  net;  but  this,  it  seems,  could  not  be  accom- 
plished, therefore  the  cobweb  was  now  entirely  for- 
saken, and  a  new  one  begun,  which  was  completed 
in  the  usual  time. 

I  had  now  a  mind  to  try  how  many  cobwebs  a 
single  spider  could  furnish;  therefore  I  destroyed 
this,  and  the  insect  set  about  another.  When  I  de- 
stroyed the  other  also,  its  whole  stock  seemed  en- 
tirely exhausted,  and  it  could  spin  no  more.  The 
arts  it  made  use  of  to  support  itself,  now  deprived 
of  its  great  means  of  subsistence,  were  indeed  sur- 
prising. I  have  seen  it  roll  up  its  legs  like  a  ball, 
and  lie  motionless  for  hours  together,  but  cautiously 
watching  all  the  time  ;  when  a  fly  happened  to  ap- 
proach sufficiently  near,  it  would  dart  out  all  at 
once,  and  often  seize  its  prey. 

Of  this  life,  however,  it  soon  began  to  grow 
weary,  and  resolved  to  invade  the  possession  of 
some  other  spider,  since  it  could  not  make  a  web 
of  its  own.  It  made  an  attack  upon  a  neighboring 
web  with  great  vigor,  and  at  first  was  as  vigorously 
repulsed.  Not  daunted,  however,  with  one  defeat,  in 
this  manner  it  continued  to  lay  siege  to  another's 
web  for  three  days,  and  at  length,  having  killed 
the  defendant,  actually  took  possession. 

When  smaller  flies  happen  to  fall  into  the  snare, 
the  spider  does  not  sally  out  at  once,  but  very 


FIFTH    READER.  157 

patiently  waits  till  it  is  sure  of  them;  for  should  it 
immediately  approach,  the  terror  of  its  appearance 
might  give  the  captive  strength  sufficient  to  get 
loose;  its  habit  then  is  to  wait  patiently,  till,  by 
useless  struggles,  the  captive  has  wasted  all  its 
strength,  and  then  it  becomes  a  certain  and  easy 
conquest. 

The  insect  I  am  now  describing  lived  three 
years;  every  year  it  changed  its  skin  and  got  a  new 
set  of  legs.  I  have  sometimes  plucked  off  a  leg, 
which  grew  again  in  two  or  three  days.  At  first 
it  dreaded  my  approach  to  its  web;  but  at  last  it 
became  so  familiar  as  to  take  a  fly  out  of  my  hand, 
and  upon  my  touching  any  part  of  the  web,  would 
immediately  leave  its  hole,  prepared  either  for  de- 
fense or  an  attack. 

To  complete  this  description  it  may  be  observed 
that  the  male  spiders  are  much  smaller  than  the 
female.  When  the  latter  come  to  lay,  they  spread 
a  part  of  their  web  under  the  eggs,  and  then  roll 
them  up  carefully,  as  we  roll  up  things  in  a  cloth, 
and  thus  hatch  them  in  their  hole. 

If  disturbed  in  their  holes,  they  never  attempt 
to  escape  without  carrying  their  young  brood  in 
their  forceps  away  with  them,  and  thus  frequently 
are  sacrificed  to  their  parental  affection. 

As  soon  as  ever  the  young  ones  leave  their 
artificial  covering,  they  begin  to  spin,  and  almost 
sensibly  seem  to  grow  bigger.  If  they  have  the 
good  fortune,  when  even  but  a  day  old,  to  catch  a 
fly,  they  begin  to  eat  with  good  appetites;  but  they 
live  sometimes  three  or  four  days  without  any  sort 
of  sustenance,  and  yet  still  continue  to  grow  larger, 
so  as  every  day  to  double  their  former  size, 


188  FIFTH    READER. 

As  they  grow  old,  however,  they  do  not  continue 
to  increase  in  size,  their  legs,  only,  grow  longer;  and 
when  a  spider  "becomes  entirely  stiff  with  age,  and 
unable  to  seize  its  prey,  it  dies  at  length  of  hunger. 

OLIVER  GOLDSMITH. 


Biography.— Oliver  Goldsmith  was  "born  at  the  village  of  Pallas. 
Ireland,  in  1728,  and  died  in  London  in  1774. 

He  received  the  degree  of  B.  A.  from  Trinity  College,  Dublin, 
and  was  induced  by  his  uncle  to  prepare  for  the  Church.  The 
Bishop  of  Elphin  promptly  rejected  the  young  man  when  he 
appeared  at  the  examination  of  candidates,  wearing  a  pair  of 
scarlet  breeches. 

When  we  read  the  life  of  Goldsmith,  and  take  into  account  all 
his  troubles— troubles  brought  upon  himself  through  folly  and 
improvidence— we  can  only  the  more  admire  the  great  genius 
that  could  conquer  in  ,'pite  of  such  obstacles. 

His  style,  as  a  writer  of  both  prose  and  poetry,  was  unsur- 
passed by  any  of  his  cotemporaries,  and  is  still  regarded  as  a 
model  of  purity  and  beauty. 

Among  his  principal  works  are  the  following:  "The  Vicar  of 
Wakefield,"  "The  Traveler,"  "The  Good-natured  Man,"  "The 
Deserted  Village,"  and  "She  Stoops  to  Conquer." 


.— A     GOOD     INVESTMENT. 


par,  apparent  value. 
ad'e  quat^,  sufficient. 
pen'u  ry,  poverty,  want. 
pro  prl'e  tor,  owner. 

ga'tion§,  questions. 


in  vSst'ment,    laying    out    of      di'alSgt^,  talk  between  two  or 

more  persons. 
in  tSg'ri  ty,  honesty. 
•ean'pelfyi,  paid. 
al  lud'ed,  written  about. 
de  j&et'ed,  cast  down. 
im  pdrt'  u  nat^,  pressing. 

"Will  you  lend  me  two  thousand  dollars  to  estab- 
lish myself  in  a  small  retail  business?"  inquired  a 
young  man  not  yet  out  of  his  teens,  of  a  middle- 
aged  gentleman,  who  was  poring  over  his  ledger  in 


FIFTH    READER.  159 

the  counting-room  of  one  of  the  largest  establish- 
ments in  Boston. 

The  person  addressed  turned  toward  the  speaker, 
and  regarding  him  for  a  moment  with  a  look  of  sur- 
prise, inquired,  "  What  security  can  you  give  me,  Mr. 
Strosser  ?  " 

"  Nothing  "but  my  note,"  replied  the  young  man, 
promptly. 

"  Which  I  fear  would  be  below  par  in  the  market," 
replied  the  merchant,  smiling. 

"  Perhaps  so,"  said  the  young  man ;  "  but,  Mr.  Bar- 
ton, remember  that  the  boy  is  not  the  man;  the 
time  may  come  when  Hiram  Strosser's  note  will  be 
as  readily  accepted  as  that  of  any  other  man." 

"True,  very  true,"  replied  Mr.  Barton,  mildly; 
"but  you  know  business  men  seldom  lend  money 
without  adequate  security ;  otherwise  they  might 
soon  be  reduced  to  penury." 

At  this  remark  the  young  man's  countenance  be- 
came very  pale;  and,  having  kept  silent  for  several 
moments,  he  inquired,  in  a  voice  whose  tones  indi- 
cated his  deep  disappointment,  "Then  you  can  not 
accommodate  me?" 

"Call  on  me  to-morrow,  and  I  will  give  you  a 
reply,"  said  Mr.  Barton,  and  the  young  man  retired. 

Mr.  Barton  resumed  his  labors  at  the  desk ;  but 
his  mind  was  so  much  upon  the  boy  and  his  singular 
errand  that  he  could  not  pursue  his  task  with  any 
correctness;  and,  after  making  several  sad  blun- 
ders, he  closed  the  ledger,  took  his  hat,  and  went  out 
into  the  street.  Arriving  at  the  store  of  a  wealthy 
merchant  in  Milk  Street,  he  entered  the  door. 

"  G-ood-morning,  Mr.  Hawley,"  said  he,  approach- 
ing the  proprietor  of  the  establishment,  who 


160  FIFTH    READER. 

seated  at  his  desk  counting  over  the  profits  of  the 
week. 

" Good-morning,"  replied  the  merchant.  "Happy 
to  see  you.  Have  a  seat.  Any  news?  How's  trade?" 

Without  noticing  these  interrogations,  Mr.  Bar- 
ton said,  "  Young  Strosser  is  desirous  of  establishing 
himself  in  a  small  retail  business  in  Washington 
Street,  and  called  this  morning  to  secure  of  me  a 
loan  of  two  thousand  dollars  for  that  purpose." 

"  Indeed ! "  exclaimed  Mr.  Hawley,  evidently  sur- 
prised at  this;  "but  you  do  not  think  of  lending 
that  sum— do  you  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know,"  replied  Mr.  Barton.  "  Mr.  Stros- 
ser is  a  young  man  of  business  talent  and  strict 
integrity,  and  will  be  likely  to  succeed  in  whatever 
he  undertakes." 

"  Perhaps  so,"  replied  Mr.  Hawley,  doubtfully ; 
"  but  I  am  heartily  tired  of  helping  to  establish  these 
young  aspirants  for  commercial  honors." 

"Have  you  ever  suffered  from  such  a  course?" 
inquired  Mr.  Barton,  at  the  same  time  casting  a 
roguish  glance  at  Mr.  Hawley. 

"  ISTo,"  replied  the  latter,  "  for  I  never  felt  inclined 
to  make  an  investment  of  that  kind." 

"  Then  here  is  a  fine  opportunity  to  do  so.  It  may 
prove  better  than  stock  in  the  bank.  As  for  myself, 
I  have  concluded  that,  if  you  will  advance  him  one 
thousand  dollars,  I  will  contribute  an  equal  sum." 

"Not  a  single  penny  would  I  advance  for  such  a 
purpose  ;  and  if  you  make  an  investment  of  that  kind 
I  shall  consider  you  very  foolish." 

Mr.  Barton  was  silent  for  several  minutes  and 
then  arose  to  depart.  "If  you  do  not  feel  disposed 
to  share  with  me  in  tlie  enterprise,  I  shall  advance 


FIFTH    READER.  161 

the  whole  sum  myself."     Saying  which,  he  left  the 
store. 


Ten  years  have  passed  away  since  the  occurrence 
of  the  conversation  recorded  in  the  preceding  dia- 
logue, and  Mr.  Barton,  pale  and  agitated,  is  standing 
at  the  same  desk  at  which  he  stood  when  first  intro- 
duced to  the  reader's  attention.  As  page  after  page 
of  his  ponderous  ledger  is  examined,  his  despair  be- 
comes deeper  and  deeper,  till  at  last  he  exclaims,  "I 
am  ruined— utterly  ruined  ! " 

"  How  so  ? "  inquired  Hiram  Strosser,  who  entered 
the  room  in  time  to  hear  Mr.  Barton's  remark. 

"The  last  European  steamer  "brought  news  of  the 
failure  of  the  house  of  Perleg,  Jackson  &  Co.,  Lon- 
don, who  are  indebted  to  me  in  the  sum  of  nearly 
two  hundred  thousand  dollars.  ISTews  of  the  failure 
has  become  general,  and  my  creditors,  panic-stricken, 
are  pressing  me  for  payment  of  their  demands.  The 
banks  refuse  me  credit,  and  I  have  not  the  means  to 
meet  my  liabilities.  If  I  could  pass  this  crisis,  per- 
haps I  could  rally  again ;  but  it  is  impossible ;  my 
creditors  are  importunate,  and  I  cannot  much  longer 
keep  above  the  tide,"  replied  Mr.  Barton. 

"What  is  the  extent  of  your  liabilities?"  inquired 
Strosser. 

"Seventy-five  thousand  dollars,"  replied  Mr.  Bar- 
ton. 

"  Would  that  sum  be  sufficient  to  relieve  you  ?  " 

"  It  would." 

"  Then,  sir,  you  shall  have  it,"  said  Strosser,  as  he 
stepped  up  to  the  desk,  and  drew  a  check  for  twenty 
thousand  dollars.  "Take  this,  and  when  you  need 
more,  do  not  hesitate  to  call  upon  me.  Remember 


162  FIFTH    HEADER, 

that  it  was  from  you  that  I  received  money  to  estab- 
lish, myself  in  business." 

"But  that  debt  was  canceled  several  years  ago," 
replied  Mr.  Barton,  as  a  ray  of  hope  shot  across  his 
troubled  mind. 

"True,"  replied  Strosser,  "but  the  debt  of  grati- 
tude that  I  owe  has  never  been  canceled;  and  now 
that  the  scale  is  turned,  I  deem  it  my  duty  to 
come  to  the  rescue." 

At  this  singular  turn  in  the  tide  of  fortune, 
Mr.  Barton  fairly  wept  for  joy.  Every  claim  against 
him  was  paid  as  soon  as  presented,  and  in  less  than 
a  month  he  had  passed  the  crisis,  and  stood  per- 
fectly safe  and  secure :  his  credit  improved,  and  his 
business  increased,  while  several  others  sunk  under 
the  blow,  among  whom  was  Mr.  Hawley,  alluded  to 
at  the  commencement  of  this  lesson. 

"How  did  you  manage  to  keep  above  the  tide?" 
inquired  Mr.  Hawley  of  Mr.  Barton,  one  morning, 
several  months  after  the  events  last  recorded,  as  he 
met  the  latter  in  the  street,  on  his  way  to  his  place 
of  business. 

"Very  easily  indeed,"  replied  Mr.  Barton. 

"Well,  do  tell  me  how,"  continued  Mr.  Hawley. 
"I  lay  claim  to  a  goojd  degree  of  shrewdness,  but 
the  strongest  exercise  of  my  wits  did  not  save  me ; 
and  yet  you,  whose  liabilities  were  twice  as  heavy 
as  my  own,  have  stood  the  shock,  and  have  come 
off  even  bettered  by  the  storm." 

"The  truth  is,"  replied  Mr.  Barton,  "I  cashed 
my  paper  as  soon  as  it  was  sent  in." 

"I  suppose  so,"  said  Mr.  Hawley,  regarding  Mr. 
Barton  with  a  look  of  surprise,  "but  how  did  you 
procure  the  funds?  As  for  me,  I  could  not  obtain  a 


FIFTH    READER.  163 

dollar's  credit:  the  banks  refused  to  take  my  paper, 
and  even  my  friends  deserted  me." 

"  A  little  investment  that  I  made  some  ten  years 
ago,"  replied  Mr.  Barton,  smiling,  "has  recently 
proved  exceedingly  profitable." 

" Investment  1 "  echoed  Mr.  Hawley;  "what  in- 
vestment ?  " 

"Why,  do  you  not  remember  how  I  established 
young  Strosser  in  business  some  ten.  years  ago?" 

"O,  yes,  yes,"  replied  Mr.  Hawley,  as  a  ray  of 
suspicion  lighted  up  his  countenance;  "but  what 
of  that?" 

"He  is  now  one  of  the  largest  dry-goods  dealers 
in  the  city,  and  when  this  calamity  occurred,  he 
came  forward,  and  very  generously  advanced  me 
seventy-five  thousand  dollars.  You  know  I  told 
you,  on  the  morning  I  called  to  offer  you  an  equal 
share  of  the  stock,  that  it  might  prove  better  than 
an  investment  in  the  bank." 

During  this  announcement  Mr.  Hawley's  eyes 
were  bent  intently  upon  the  ground,  and  drawing 
a  deep  sigh  he  moved  on,  dejected  and  sad,  while 
Mr.  Barton  returned  to  his  place  of  business  with 
his  mind  cheered  and  animated  by  thoughts  of  his 

singular  investment. 

FREEMAN  HUNT. 

Biography.  — Freeman  Hunt  was  born  at  Quincy,  Massachu- 
setts, in  1804,  and  died  in  New  York  City  in  1858. 

He  was  at  one  time  the  editor  and  proprietor  of  "The 
Merchants'  Magazine. "  He  also  established  ' '  The  Ladies'  Mag- 
azine," "The  Weekly  Traveler,"  and  "The  Juvenile  Miscellany." 

Language.  — Explain  what  is  meant  by  the  expressions— "The 
scale  is  turned"  and  a  "Turn  in  the  tide  of  fortune." 

Composition.  — Give  a  reason  for  the  use  of  each  mark  of 
punctuation  and  each  capital  letter  employed  in  the  first  two 
paragraphs  of  the  lesson. 


164  FIFTH    HEADER. 


.  —  DRIVING    HOME    THE    COWS. 


bttt'ter  -eiips,  a  kind  of  plant 

ha/ding  bright  yellow  flowers. 
trem'd  l^iis,  shaking. 


s<5'b^r,  slow;  calm. 

grim,  stern. 

•er6p'ping,  biting;  cutting. 


Out  of  the  clover  and  "blue-eyed  grass, 
He  turned  them  into  the  river-lane ; 

One  after  another  he  let  them  pass, 
Then  fastened  the  meadow-bars  again. 

Under  the  willows  and  over  the  hill, 
He  patiently  followed  their  sober  pace; 

The  merry  whistle  for  once  was  still, 
And  something  shadowed  the  sunny  face. 

Only  a  boy !   and  his  father  had  said 
•  He  never  could  let  the  youngest  go  1 
Two  already  were  lying  dead 
Under  the  feet  of  the  trampling  foe. 

But  after  the  evening  work  was  done, 
And  the  frogs  were  loud  in  the  meadow  swamp. 

Over  his  shoulder  he  slung  his  gun, 
And  stealthily  followed  the  foot-path  damp,— 

Across  the  clover  and  through  the  wheat, 
With  resolute  heart  and  purpose  grim, 

Though  cold  was  the  dew  on  his  hurrying  feet, 
And  the  blind  bats'  flitting  startled  him. 

Thrice  since  then  had  the  lanes  been  white, 
And  the  orchards  sweet  with  apple-bloom ; 

And  now,  when  the  cows  came  back  at  night, 
The  feeble  father  drove  them 


FIFTH    READER.  16S 

For  news  had  come  to  the  lonely  farm 
That  three  were  lying  where  two  had  lain; 

And  the  old  man's  tremulous,  palsied  arm 
Could  never  lean  on  a  son's  again. 

The  summer  day  grew  cool  and  late ; 

He  went  for  the  cows  when  the  work  was  done; 
But  down  the  lane,  as  he  opened  the  gate, 

He  saw  them  coming,  one  by  one,— 

Brindle,  Ebony,  Speckle,  and  Bess, 
Shaking  their  horns  in  the  evening  wind, 

Cropping  the  "buttercups  out  of  the  grass- 
But  who  was  it  following  close  behind? 

Loosely  swung  in  the  idle  air   ' 

The  empty  sleeve  of  army  blue; 
And  worn  and  pale,  from  the  crisping  hair, 

Looked  out  a  face  that  the  father  knew,— 

The  great  tears  sprung  to  their  meeting  eyes; 

"  For  the  heart  must  speak  when  the  lips  are  dumb," 
And  under  the  silent  evening  skies, 

Together  they  followed  the  cattle  home. 

For  gloomy  prisons  will  sometimes  yawn, 
And  yield  their  dead  unto  life  again; 

And  the  day  that  comes  with  a  cloudy  dawn, 
In  golden  glory  at  last  may  wane. 

KATE  P.  OSGOOD. 


Biography.  — Kate  Putnam  Osgood,  "born  in  Maine  in  1841,  is  a 
contributor  to  the  leading  periodicals  of  this  country.  She  is 
regarded  as  one  of  the  most  pleasing  of  our  American  poets. 

"Driving  Homo  the  Cows"  is  considered  the  most  popular  of 
her  poems. 


166  FIFTH    READER. 


35.  —  MRS.     CAUDLE'S    UMBRELLA    LECTURE. 


,  a  discourse  on  any  sub- 


ject. 


in  sijt.lt',  treat  with  abuse. 
ag'  gra  vat  ing,  provoking  . 


hln'd^r,  stop. 

•e!6g§,  heavy  shoes. 

s6p'ping,  soaking. 

dow'  dy,  an  ill-dressed  woman. 


Bah !  That's  the  third  umbrella  gone  since 
Christmas.  What  were  you  to  do?  Why,  let  him 
go  home  in  the  rain,  to  "be  sure.  I'm  very  certain 
there  was  nothing  about  him  that  could  spoil. 
Take  cold  ?  Indeed !  He  doesn't  look  like  one  of  the 
sort  to  take  cold.  Besides,  he'd  better  have  taken 
cold  than  taken  our  umbrella.  Do  you  hear  the 
rain,  Mr.  Caudle?  I  say,  do  you  hear  the  rain? 
And,  as  I'm  alive,  if  it  isn't  Saint  Swithin's  Day! 

Do  you  hear  it  against  the  windows?  Nonsense, 
you  don't  impose  on  me.  You  can't  be  asleep  with 
such  a  shower  as  that!  Do  you  hear  it,  I  say?  O 
you  do  hear  it?  Well,  that's  a  pretty  flood,  I  think, 
to  last  for  six  weeks;  and  no  stirring  out  of  the 
house  all  the  time.  Pooh!  don't  think  me  a  fool, 
Mr.  Caudle.  Don't  insult  me.  He  return  the  um- 
brella ?  Any  body  would  think  you  were  born  yester- 
day. As  if  any  body  ever  did  return  an  umbrella! 
There— do  you  hear  it?  Worse  and  worse!  Cats 
and  dogs,  and  for  six  weeks— always  six  weeks,— 
and  no  umbrella! 

I  should  like  to  know  how  the  children  are  to 
go  to  school  to-morrow.  They  shan't  go  through 
such  weather ;  I'm  determined.  No !  they  shall  stay 
at  home  and  never  learn  any  thing— the  blessed 
creatures !  —  sooner  than  go  and  get  wet.  And  when 
they  grow  up  I  wonder  who  they'll  have  to  thank 


FIFTH    READER.  167 

for  knowing  nothing— who,  indeed,  but  their  father? 
People  who  can't  feel  for  their  own  children  ought 
never  to  be  fathers. 

But  I  know  why  you  lent  the  umbrella.  O  yes; 
I  know  very  well.  I  was  going  out  to  tea  at  dear 
mother's  to-morrow,— you  knew  that,— and  you  did 
it  on  purpose.  Don't  tell  me;  you  hate  to  have  me 
go  there,  and  take  every  mean  advantage  to  hinder 
me.  But  don't  you  think  it,  Mr.  Caudle.  ISTo,  sir; 
if  it  comes  down  in  bucketsful,  I'll  go  all  the  more. 

No !  and  I  won't  have  a  cab !  Where  do  you 
think  the  money's  to  come  from?  You've  got  nice 
high  notions  at  that  club  of  yours.  A  cab,  indeed! 
Cost  me  sixteen-pence  at  least— sixteen-pence?— 
two-and-eight-pence,  for  there's  back  again !  Cabs, 
indeed!  I  should  like  to  know  who's  to  pay  for 
them?  I  can't  pay  for  them;  and  I'm  sure  you 
can't  if  you  go  on  as  you  do;  throwing  away 
your  property,  and  beggaring  your  children,  buy- 
ing umbrellas. 

Do  you  hear  the  rain,  Mr.  Caudle  ?  I  say,  do  you 
hear  it?  But  I  don't  care— I'll  go  to  mother's  to- 
morrow, I  will;  and  what's  more,  I'll  walk  every 
step  of  the  way;  and  you  know  that  will  give  me 
my  death.  Don't  call  me  a  foolish  woman ;  it's  you 
that's  the  foolish  man.  You  know  I  can't  wear 
clogs;  and  with  no  umbrella,  the  wet's  sure  to  give 
me  a  cold— it  always  does.  But  what  do  you  care 
for  that?  Nothing  at  all.  I  may  be  laid  up  for 
what  you  care,  as  I  dare  say  I  shall— and  a  pretty 
doctor's  bill  there'll  be.  I  hope  there  will!  It  will 
teach  you  to  lend  your  umbrella  again.  I  shouldn't 
wonder  if  I  caught  my  death;  and  that's  what  you 
lent  your  umbrella  for.  Of  course! 


168  FIFTH    READER. 

Nice  clothes  I  shall  get,  too,  tramping  through 
weather  like  this.  My  gown  and  bonnet  will  be 
spoiled  quite.  Needn't  I  wear  them,  then?  Indeed, 
Mr.  Caudle,  I  shall  wear  them.  No,  sir;  I'm  not 
going  out  a  dowdy  to  please  you  or  any  body  else. 
Gracious  knows,  it  isn't  often  I  step  over  the 
threshold;  indeed,  I  might  as  well  be  a  slave  at 
once— better,  I  should  say.  But,  when  I  do  go  out, 
Mr.  Caudle,  I  choose  to  go  as  a  lady. 

O!  that  rain,  if  it  isn't  enough  to  break  in  the 
windows.  Ugh!  I  look  forward  with  dread  for  to- 
morrow. How  I'm  to  go  to  mother's  I'm  sure  I 
can't  tell.  But,  if  I  die,  I'll  do  it.  No,  sir;  I  won't 
borrow  an  umbrella.  No;  and  you  shan't  buy  one. 
Mr.  Caudle,  if  you  bring  home  another  umbrella, 
I'll  throw  it  into  the  street.  Ha!  it  was  only  last 
week  I  had  a  new  nozzle  put  to  that  umbrella. 
I'm  sure  if  I'd  have  known  as  much  as  I  do  now 
it  might  have  gone  without  one  for  all  of  me.  Pay- 
ing for  new  nozzles  for  other  people  to  laugh  at 
you! 

0  it's  all  very  well  for  you,  you  can  go  to  sleep ! 
You've   no   thought  of  your  poor,  patient  wife  and 
your  own  dear  children.     You  think  of  nothing  but 
lending    umbrellas.      Men,    indeed!  — call    themselves 
lords    of   creation!— pretty    lords,    when    they    can't 
even  take  care  of  an  umbrella! 

1  know  that  walk   to-morrow  will   be   the  death 
of  me.     But  that's  what  you   want;  then   you   may 
go  to  your  club,  and  do  as  you  like— and  then  how 
my  poor  children  will  be  used !    But  then,  sir,  then 
you'll  be  happy.     O  don't  tell  me,  I  know  you  will. 
Else  you  never  would  have  lent  that  umbrella. 

You   have   to  go   on   Thursday  about   that   sum- 


FIFTH    &EADEII  169 

mons;  and  of  course  you  can't  go.  No,  indeed,  you 
don't  go  without  the  umbrella.  You  may  lose  the 
debt  for  what  I  care — it  won't  be  so  much  as  spoil- 
ing your  clothes— better  lose  it;  people  deserve  to 
lose  debts  who  lend  umbrellas. 

And  I  should  like  to  know  how  I'm  to  go  to 
mother's  without  the  umbrella?  O  don't  tell  me 
that  I  said  I  wouldn't  go— that's  nothing  to  do  with 
it;  nothing  at  all.  She'll  think  I'm  neglecting  her, 
and  the  little  money  we're  to  have,  we  shan't  have 
at  all,  because  we've  no  umbrella. 

The  children  too,  dear  things,  they'll  be  sopping 
wet;  for  they  shan't  stay  at  home;  they  shan't  lose 
their  learning;  it's  all  their  father  will  leave  them, 
I'm  sure.  But  they  shall  go  to  school.  Don't  tell 
me  I  said  they  shouldn't;  you  are  so  aggravating, 
Caudle,  you'd  spoil  the  temper  of  an  angel;  they 
shall  go  to  school;  mark  that!  And  if  they  get 
their  deaths  of  cold,  it's  not  my  fault :  I  didn't  lend 
the  umbrella.  Caudle,  are  you  asleep?  (A  loud 
snore  is  heard.)  O  what  a  brute  a  man  is !  O  dear, 
dear,  d-e-a-r! 

DOUGLAS  JERROLD. 

Biography.  — Douglas  Jerrold  was  born  in  London  in  1803,  and 
died  in  1857. 

He  passed  his  eleventh  and  twelfth  years  as  a  midshipman 
in  the  British  navy,  out  of  which  experience  he  composed  "Black- 
eyed  Susan,"  one  of  his  most  successful  plays. 

In  London,  Jerrold  rose  from  the  position  of  a  printer's  ap- 
prentice to  that  of  editor  of  a  magazine.  He  became  widely 
known  as  a  contributor  to  London  "Punch,"  a  humorous  publi- 
cation of  extensive  circulation. 

Language,  — Mrs.  Caudle's  Lectures  appear  to  be  more  humor- 
ous from  the  suppression  of  Mr.  Caudle  and  the  consequent  loss 
of  the  form  of  dialogue. 

Supply  what  Mr.  Caudle  is  supposed  to  have  said  in  the  first 
three  paragraphs. 


17O  FIFTH    READER. 


36.  —  THE    AMERICAN    FLAG. 


sym'bolg,  signs. 

as'pe-et,  appearance. 

Ie"g'a9i^§,  gifts. 

em  bla'z^n  ry,  signs  or  figures 

on  shields  or  standards. 
ef  fdr  gent,  bright;  shining. 


ramp' ant,  standing  upright  on 

its  hind  legs. 

immdr'tal,  everlasting. 
lu'min^us,  shining;   emitting 

light. 
be  nefi  9ent,  kind;  generous. 


When  a  man  of  thoughtful  mind  sees  a  nation's 
flag,  he  sees  not  the  flag  only,  "but  the  nation  itself; 
and  whatever  may  be  its  symbols,  he  reads  chiefly  in 
the  flag,  the  government,  the  principles,  the  truth, 
the  history,  which  belong  to  the  nation  which  sets 
it  forth. 

When  the  French  tricolor N  rolls  out  to  the  wind, 
we  see  France.  When  the  new-found  Italian  flag  is 
unfurled,  we  see  Italy  restored.  When  the  other 
three-cornered  Hungarian  flag  shall  be  lifted  to  the 
wind,  we  shall  see  in  it  the  long-buried,  but  never 
dead,  principles  of  Hungarian  liberty.  When  the 
united  crosses  of  St.  Andrew  N  and  St.  George N  on  a 
fiery  ground  set  forth  the  banner  of  Old  England, 
we  see  not  the  cloth  merely;  there  rises  up  before 
the  mind  the  noble  aspect  of  that  monarchy, 
which,  more  than  any  other  on  the  globe,  has 
advanced  its  banner  for  liberty,  law,  and  national 
prosperity. 

This  nation  has  a  banner,  too;  and  wherever  it 
streamed  abroad,  men  saw  daybreak  bursting  on 
their  eyes,  for  the  American  flag  has  been  the  sym- 
bol of  liberty,  and  men  rejoiced  in  it.  Not  another 
flag  on  the  globe  had  such  an  errand,  or  went  forth 
upon  the  seas,  carrying  every-where,  the  world 


FIFTH    READER.  171 

around,  such  hope  for  the  captive  and  such  glori- 
ous tidings. 

The  stars  upon  it  were  to  the  pining  nations 
like  the  morning  stars  of  G-od,  and  the  stripes  upon 
it  were  "beams  of  morning  light. 

As  at  early  dawn  the  stars  stand  first,  and  then 
it  grows  light,  and  then,  as  the  sun  advances,  that 
light  breaks  into  banks  and  streaming  lines  of  color, 
the  glowing  red  and  intense  white  striving  together 
and  ribbing  the  horizon  with  bars  effulgent,  so  on 
the  American  flag,  stars  and  beams  of  many-col- 
ored lights  shine  out  together.  And  wherever  the 
flag  comes,  and  men  behold  it,  they  see  in  its 
sacred  emblazonry,  no  rampant  lion  and  fierce 
eagle,  but  only  light,  and  every  fold  indicative  of 
liberty. 

The  history  of  this  banner  is  all  on  one  side. 
Under  it  rode  Washington  and  his  armies;  before 
it  Burgoyne  laid  down  his  arms.  It  waved  in  the 
highlands  at  West  Point;  it  floated  over  old  Fort 
Montgomery.  When  Arnold  would  have  surrendered 
these  valuable  fortresses  and  precious  legacies,  his 
night  was  turned  into  day,  and  his  treachery  was 
driven  away  by  the  beams  of  light  from  this  starry 
banner. 

It  cheered  our  army,  driven  from  New  York,  in 
their  solitary  pilgrimage  through  ISTew  Jersey.  It 
streamed  in  light  over  Morristown  and  Valley  Forge. 
It  crossed  the  waters  rolling  with  ice  at  Trenton; 
and  when  its  stars  gleamed  in  the  cold  morning 
with  victory,  a  new  day  of  hope  dawned  on  the 
despairing  nation;  and  when,  at  length,  the  long 
years  of  war  were  drawing  to  a  close,  underneath 
the  folds  of  this  immortal  banner  sat  Washington 


READE&. 


while  Yorktown  surrendered  its  hosts,  and  our 
Revolutionary  struggles  ended  with  victory. 

Let  us  then  twine  each  thread  of  the  glorious 
tissue  of  our  country's  flag  about  our  heartstrings; 
and  looking  upon  our  homes  and  catching  the  spirit 
that  "breathes  upon  us  from  the  battle-fields  of  our 
fathers,  let  us  resolve,  come  weal  or  woe,  we  will, 
in  life  and  in  death,  now  and  forever,  stand  by  the 
stars  and  stripes. 

They  have  been  unfurled  from  the  snows  of 
Canada  to  the  plains  of  New  Orleans;  in  the  halls 
of  the  MontezumasN  and  amid  the  solitude  of  every 
sea;  and  every-where,  as  the  luminous  symbol  of 
resistless  and  beneficent  power,  they  have  led  the 
brave  to  victory  and  to  glory.  They  have  floated 
over  our  cradles;  let  it  be  our  prayer  and  our 
struggle  that  they  shall  float  over  our  graves. 

HENRY  WARD  BEECHER. 

Biography,—  Be  v.  Henry  Ward  Beecher  was  born  at  Litchfleld, 
Connecticut,  in  1813. 

After  graduating  at  Amherst  College,  Mr.  Beecher  devoted 
himself  to  the  study  of  theology,  and  soon  became  successful  in 
his  profession.  Since  1847,  he  has  been  pastor  of  Plymouth 
Church,  Brooklyn,  New  York. 

Mr.  Beecher's  style  as  a  writer  is  clear  and  forcible  ;  and  in 
preaching  or  lecturing,  he  exhibits,  in  addition  to  those  qualities, 
wonderful  grace  of  manner  and  fluency  of  expression. 

His  principal  works  are  his  sermons  ;  but  he  has  also  written 
one  volume  of  "A  Life  of  Christ,"  and  "Norwood,"  a  novel.  He 
was,  for  many  years,  editor  of  the  "Christian  Union." 

Notes.  —  St.  Andrew  was  the  patron  saint  of  Scotland  ;  St.  George, 

the  patron  saint  of  England.  The  oblique  cross  of  St.  Andrew 
and  the  vertical  cross  of  St.  George  are  united  on  the  British 
flag. 

Tricolor  means  three-colored.  The  national  banner  of  France 
is  three-colored—blue,  white,  and  red. 

The  halls  of  the  ])£ontez^^,mas  means  in  Mexico,  since  the  Monte- 
zumas  were  formerly  the  sovereigns  of  that  country. 


FIFTH    READER.  173 


e?7.-THE     BISON    TRACK. 


,  charge  with  powder, 

,  tied. 
,  distances  equal  to  three 


re  glst'les^,  not  to  be  opposed. 


•ear'-eas^,  dead  body  of  an  ani- 
mal. 

stam  pedV,  sudden  flight  from 
fright. 

brln'ded,  having  many  colors. 


Strike  the  tent!N  The  sun  has  risen; 

Not  a  vapor  streaks  the  dawn, 
And  the  frosted  prairie  brightens 

To  the  westward,  far  and  wan. 
Prime  afresh  the  trusty  rifle, 

Sharpen  well  the  hunting  spear; 
For  the  frozen  sod  is  trembling, 

And  a  noise  of  hoofs  I  hear. 

Fiercely  stamp  the  tethered  horses, 

As  they  snuff  the  morning's  fire ; 
Their  impatient  heads  are  tossing 

As  they  neigh  with  keen  desire. 
Strike  the  tent !     The  saddles  wait  us  ;— 

Let  the  bridle  reins  be  slack, 
For  the  prairie's  distant  thunder 

Has  betrayed  the  bison's  track. 

See !   a  dusky  line  approaches ; 

Hark  the  onward  surging  roar, 
Like  the  din  of  wintry  breakers 

On  a  sounding  wall  of  shore ! 
Dust  and  sand  behind  them  whirling, 

Snort  the  foremost  of  the  van, 
And  their  stubborn  horns  are  clashing 

Through  the  crowded  caravan. 


174  FIFTH    READER. 

Now  the  storm  is  down  upon  us ; 

Let  the  maddened  horses  go  I 
We  shall  ride  the  living  whirlwind, 

Though  a  hundred  leagues  it  blow! 
Though  the  cloudy  manes  should  thicken. 

And  the  red  eyes'  angry  glare 
Lighten  round  us  as  we  gallop 

Through  the  sand  and  rushing  air  I 

Myriad  hoofs  will  scar  the  prairie, 

In  our  wild  resistless  race, 
And  a  sound,  like  mighty  waters, 

Thunder  down  the  desert  space ; 
Yet  the  rein  may  not  "be  tightened, 

]STor  the  rider's  eye  look  back,— 
Death  to  him  whose  speed  should  slacken 

On  the  maddened  bison's  track. N 

Now  the  trampling  herds  are  threaded, 

And  the  chase  is  close  and  warm, 
For  the  giant  bull  that  gallops 

In  the  edges  of  the  storm ; 
Swiftly  hurl  the  whizzing  lasso, 

Swing  your  rifles  as  we  run ; 
See  the  dust  is  red  behind  him,— 

Shout,  my  comrades,  he  is  won ! 

Look  not  on  him  as  he  staggers,— 
'Tis  the  last  shot  he  will  need! 

More  shall  fall  among  his  fellows, 
Ere  we  run  the  mad  stampede,— 

Ere  we  stem  the  brinded  breakers, 
While  the  wolves,  a  hungry  pack, 

Howl  around  each  grim-eyed  carcass 

On  the  bloody  bison  track. 

BAYARD  TAYLOR 


FIFTH    READER.  175 


Biography.—  Bayard  Taylor  was  born  in  Pennsylvania  in  1825, 
and  died  in  Berlin  in  1878. 

At  the  age  of  seventeen,  while  at  work  as  an  apprentice  in 
a  printing  office,  he  began  to  write  poetry  for  periodicals.  In 
1844,  he  published  a  volume  of  poems  under  the  title  "Ximena;" 
and  in  1846  he  began  a  tour  of  Europe  on  foot. 

Taylor  soon  became  well  known  both  as  a  writer  and  a  trav- 
eler. During  twenty  years  of  his  life,  he  may  be  said  to  have 
composed  his  poems  and  "written  his  newspaper  articles  as  he 
was  journeying  from  place  to  place.  At  the  time  of  his  death, 
he  was  United  States  Minister  to  Berlin. 

Among  the  best  known  of  Taylor's  works  are:  "Views  Afoot, 
or  Europe  Seen  with  a  Knapsack  and  Staff,"  "Eldorado,"  "North- 
ern Travel,"  "  Rhymes  of  Travel,"  "Story  of  Kennett,"  "Hannah 
Thurston,"  and  "A  Translation  of  Qoethe's  Faust." 

Notes.  —  Strike  the  tent  means  to  take  the  tent  down  and  make 
it  ready  for  transportation. 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  fifth  stanza,  reference  is  made  to 
the  necessity  of  keeping  along  with  a  herd  of  buffaloes  when  the 
hunters  have  ridden  into  it,  for  should  they  stop,  they  would 
be  trampled  to  death. 


im  pr£s'sion§  (presh  ung),  im- 
prints; influences  on  the  feelings. 
£ir  -eu  la'tion,  flow. 
pro  p6n'  si  ty,  desire. 
prox  Im'i  ty,  nearness, 
c  lapsed',  passed  away. 


HURRICANE. 

sul'phftr  (fur),  a  mineral  sub- 
stance of  a  yellow  color. 

ob  s-eur^d',  hid. 

diffug^d',  poured  out. 

d£p  re  da'tiong,  attacks  for 
plunder. 

sus  ta^n^d',  suffered. 

Various  portions  of  our  country  have,  at  differ- 
ent times,  suffered  severely  from  the  influence  of 
violent  storms  of  wind,  some  of  which  have  been 
known  to  traverse  nearly  the  whole  of  the  United 
States,  and  to  leave  such  deep  impressions  in  their 
wake  as  will  not  easily  be  forgotten. 

Having  witnessed  'one   of  these  awful   scenes  in 


176  FIFTH    READER. 

all  its  grandeur,  I  will  attempt  to  describe  it.  The 
recollection  of  that  astonishing  revolution  of  the 
airy  element,  even  now  brings  with  it  so  disagree- 
able a  sensation,  that  I  feel  as  if  about  to  be  af- 
fected with  a  sudden  stoppage  of  the  circulation 
of  my  blood. 

I  had  left  the  village  of  Shewanee,  situated  on 
the  banks  of  the  Ohio,  on  my  return  from  Hender- 
son, which  is  also  situated  on  the  banks  of  the 
same  beautiful  stream.  The  weather  was  pleasant, 
and  I  thought  not  warmer  than  usual  at  that  sea- 
son. My  horse  was  jogging  quietly  along,  and  my 
thoughts  were,  for  once  at  least  in  the  course  of 
my  life,  entirely  engaged  in  commercial  specula- 
tions. 

I  had  forded  Highland  Creek,  and  was  on  the 
eve  of  entering  a  tract  of  bottom-land  or  valley 
that  lay  between  it  and  Canoe  Creek,  when  sud- 
denly I  noticed  a  great  difference  in  the  aspect  of 
the  heavens.  A  hazy  thickness  had  overspread  the 
country,  and  I  for  some  time  expected  an  earth- 
quake ;  but  my  horse  exhibited  no  inclination  to 
stop"  and  prepare  for  such  an  occurrence.  I  had 
nearly  arrived  at  the  verge  of  the  valley,  when  I 
thought  fit  to  stop  near  a  brook,  and  dismounted 
to  quench  the  thirst  which  had  come  upon  me. 

I  was  leaning  on  my  knees,  with  my  lips  about 
to  touch  the  water,  when,  from  my  proximity  to 
the  earth,  I  heard  a  distant  murmuring  sound  of 
an  extraordinary  nature.  I  drank,  however,  and  as 
I  rose  to  my  feet,  looked  toward  the  south-west, 
when  I  observed  a  yellowish  oval  spot,  the  appear- 
ance of  which  was  quite  new  to  me. 

Little  time  was  left  to  me  for  consideration,  as 


FIFTH    READER.  177 

the  next  moment  a  smart  breeze  began  to  agitate 
the  taller  trees.  It  increased  to  an  unexpected 
height,  and  already  the  smaller  branches  and  twigs 
were  seen  falling  in  a  slanting  direction  toward 
the  ground.  Two  minutes  had  scarcely  elapsed, 
when  the  whole  forest  before  me  was  in  fearful 
motion.  Here  and  there,  where  one  tree  pressed 
against  another,  a  creaking  noise  was  produced,  simi- 
lar to  that  occasioned  by  the  violent  gusts  which 
sometimes  sweep  over  the  country. 

Turning  toward  the  direction  from  which  the 
wind  blew,  I  saw,  to  my  great  astonishment,  that 
the  noblest  trees  of  the  forest  bent  their  lofty  heads 
for  a  while,  and,  unable  to  stand  against  the  blast, 
were  falling  in  pieces.  First,  the  branches  were 
broken  off  with  a  crackling  noise,  then  went  the 
upper  part  of  the  massive  trunks,  and  in  many 
cases,  whole  trees  of  gigantic  size  were  falling,  en- 
tire, to  the  ground. 

So  rapid  was  the  progress  of  the  storm,  that 
before  I  could  think  of  taking  measures  to  insure 
my  safety,  the  hurricane  was  passing  opposite  the 
place  where  I  stood.  Never  can  I  forget  the  scene 
which  at  that  moment  presented  itself.  The  tops 
of  the  trees  were  seen  moving  in  the  strangest 
manner,  in  the  central  current  of  the  tempest, 
which  carried  along  with  it  a  mingled  mass  of 
twigs  and  foliage  that  completely  obscured  the  view. 
Some  of  the  largest  trees  were  seen  bending  and 
writhing  beneath  the  gale ;  others  suddenly  snapped 
across,  and  many,  after  a  momentary  resistance,  fell 
uprooted  to  the  earth. 

The  mass  of  branches,  twigs,  foliage,  and  dust 
that  moved  through  the  air,  was  whirled  onward 


178  FIFTH    READER. 

like  a  cloud  of  feathers,  and  on  passing  disclosed 
a  wide  space  filled  with,  fallen  trees,  naked  stumps, 
and  heaps  of  shapeless  ruins,  which  marked  the 
path  of  the  tempest.  The  space  was  about  a  fourth 
of  a  mile  in  "breadth,  and  to  my  imagination  resem- 
bled the  dried-up  bed  of  the  Mississippi,  with  its 
thousands  of  snags  and  sunken  logs  strewed  in  the 
sand  and  inclined  in  various  degrees.  The  horrible 
noise  resembled  that  of  the  great  cataracts  of  Ni- 
agara, and  as  it  howled  along  in  the  track  of  the 
desolating  tempest,  it  produced  a  feeling  in  my 
mind  which  it  is  impossible  to  describe. 

The  principal  force  of  the  hurricane  was  now 
over,  although  millions  of  twigs  and  small  branches, 
that  had  been  brought  from  a  great  distance,  were 
seen  following  the  blast,  as  if  drawn  onward  by 
some  mysterious  power.  They  were  floated  in  the 
air  for  some  hours  after,  as  if  supported  by  the 
thick  mass  of  dust  that  rose  high  above  the  ground. 
The  sky  had  now  a  greenish  lurid  hue,  and  an  ex- 
tremely disagreeable  odor  of  sulphur  was  diffused 
in  the  atmosphere.  Having  sustained  no  material 
injury,  I  waited  in  amazement,  until  nature  at  length 
resumed  her  usual  aspect. 

For  some  moments  I  felt  undetermined  whether 
I  should  return  to  Morgantown,  or  attempt  to  force 
my  way  through  the  wrecks  of  the  tempest.  My 
business,  however,  being  of  an  urgent  nature,  I  ven- 
tured into  the  path  of  the  storm,  and,  after  encount- 
e  ?mg  innumerable  difficulties,  succeeded  in  cross- 
ing it. 

I  was  obliged  to  lead  my  horse  by  the  bridle  to 
enable  him  to  leap  over  the  fallen  trees,  whilst  I 
scrambled  over  or  under  them  the  best  way  I  could. 


FIFTH    READER.  179 

at  times  so  hemmed  in  by  the  broken  tops  and 
tangled  branches  as  almost  to  become  desperate.  On 
arriving  at  my  house  I  gave  an  account  of  what  I 
had  seen,  when,  to  my  surprise,  I  was  told  that 
there  had  been  very  little  wind  in  the  neighbor- 
hood, although  in  the  streets  and  gardens  many 
branches  and  twigs  had  fallen  in  a  manner  which 
excited  great  surprise. 

Many  wondrous  accounts  of  the  devastating 
effects  of  this  hurricane,  were  circulated  in  the 
country  after  its  occurrence.  Some  log-houses,  we 
were  told,  had  been  overturned,  and  their  inmates 
destroyed.  One  person  informed  me  that  a  wire- 
sifter  had  been  conveyed  by  the  gust  to  a  distance 
of  many  miles.  Another  had  found  a  cow  lodged 
in  the  fork  of  a  large  half-broken  tree. 

But  as  I  am  disposed  to  relate  only  what  I  have 
myself  seen,  I  will  not  lead  you  into  the  region  of 
romance,  but  shall  content  myself  with  saying  that 
'much  damage  was  done  by  the  awful  visitation. 

The  valley  is  yet  a  desolate  place,  overgrown  with 
briers  and  bushes  thickly  entangled  among  the  tops 
and  trunks  of  the  fallen  trees,  and  is  the  resort  of 
ravenous  animals,  to  which  they  betake  themselves 
when  pursued  by  man,  or  after  they  have  committed 
their  depredations  on  the  farms  of  the  surrounding 
district. 

I  have  crossed  the  path  of  the  storm,  at  a  dis- 
tance of  a  hundred  miles  from  the  spot  where  I 
witnessed  its  fury,  and  again,  four  hundred  miles 
farther  off,  in  the  State  of  Ohio.  Lastly  I  observed 
traces  of  its  ravages  on  the  summits  of  the  moun- 
tains connected  with  the  Great  Pine  Forest  of  Penn- 
sylvania, three  hundred  miles  beyond  tlie  place  last 


ISO  FIFTH    READER. 

mentioned.  In  all  those  different  parts  it  appeared 
to  me  not  to  have  exceeded  a  quarter  of  a  mile  in 
breadth. 

JOHN  J.  AUDUBON. 

Biography.— John  James  Audubon  was  born  in  1780  in  Louisi- 
ana—then a  French  colony  — and  died  in  1851. 

He  became  much  interested  in  the  study  of  birds,  even  at  an 
early  age.  When  fourteen  years  old,  he  was  sent  to  Paris  to 
acquire  the  art  of  drawing.  After  his  return  to  America,  he 
devoted  his  time  to  active  research,  and  then  published  that 
wonderful  work  —  "The  Birds  of  America." 

As  a  scientist,  an  artist,  and  a  writer,  Audubon  stands  in 
the  front  rank  of  the  world's  great  men. 

Language.  — If  we  add  to  the  simple  sentence— "I  can  never 
forget  the  scene,"  another  sentence  modifying  some  part  of  it,  as, 
"which  presented  itself,"  limiting  scene,  we  have  what  is  called 
a  complex  sentence. 

Select  two  complex  sentences  from  the  lesson,  and  show  the 
parts  of  each. 


39.—  IS    A    TURTLE     A     FISH? 

[Debate   in  the   Virginia   House   of  Delegates.] 


sSph'ist  ri^g  (sof),  false  reasons 

that  seem  to  be  true. 
pro  found",  deep. 
in  -e6n  tro  vert'i  bl^,    not   to 

be  denied. 


,  a  small  land  animal, 
commonly  called  a  turtle. 
re  feri^d',  given  in  charge  of. 


in'ti  mat  ing,  hinting;  giving 
slight  notice  of. 

ly  (zMr),  slowly. 

an  invitation  to  a 


contest. 
dis  -efts'  sion  (kush'  un),  consid- 

eration. 
il  ISdf'i  bl^,  not  easily  read. 


Mr.  Speaker,N— A  bill,  having  for  its  object  the 
marking  and  determining  of  the  close  season  for 
catching  and  killing  turtles  and  terrapins,N  has  just 
been  introduced  by  the  gentleman  from  Rockbridge, 


FIFTH    READER.  181 

who  asks  that  it  be  referred  to  the  Committee  on 
Game,  of  which  I  have  the  honor  to  "be  chairman. 
To  this  disposition  of  the  bill  the  gentleman  from 
Gloucester  objects,  on  the  ground  that  as  turtles 
and  terrapins  are  fish,  and  not  game,  it  should  go 
to  the  Committee  on  Fish  and  Oysters. 

On  Chesapeake  Bay  and  its  tributaries,  says  the 
honorable  gentleman,  turtles  and  terrapins  are  fre- 
quently captured,  many  miles  out  from  land,  in 
nets  or  with  hook  and  line,  as  all  other  members 
of  the  finny  tribe  are ;  and  that,  therefore,  they  are 
fish,  and  nothing  but  fish. 

I  have  profound  respect  for  the  gentleman's  opin- 
ion; as  a  lawyer  he  has  acquired  not  only  a  state 
but  a  national  reputation;  but  even  I,  opposing  a 
pin's  point  against  the  shield  of  Pelides,N  take  issue 
with  him.  Sir,  I  am  no  lawyer,  I  don't  understand 
enough  of  law  to  keep  out  of  its  meshes,  but  I  will 
answer  his  sophistries  with  a  few,  plain,  incontro- 
vertible facts,  and,  as  the  old  sawN  says,  "facts  are 
stubborn  things." 

Is  a  turtle  a  fish?  I  imagine  not.  Down  on  the 
old  Virginia  lowlands  of  the  Potomac  River,  where 
I  come  from,  the  colored  people  have  dogs  trained 
to  hunt  turtles  when  they  come  up  on  the  dry 
land  to  deposit  their  eggs,  and  when  they  find  them 
they  bark  as  if  they  were  treeing  a  squirrel.  ISTow,  I 
ask  the  House,  did  any  member  ever  hear  of  a  fish 
being  hunted  with  dogs? 

Who  does  not  know  that  a  turtle  has  four  legs; 
that  those  legs  have  feet;  and  that  those  feet  are 
armed  with  claws,  like  a  cat's,  a  panther's,  or  a 
lion's?  Has  the  gentleman  from  G-loucester  ever 
seen  a  fish  with  talons?  I  think  not. 


182  FIFTH    READER. 

It  is  well  known  that  a  turtle  can  be  kept  in  a 
cellar  for  weeks,  and  even  months,  without  food  or 
water.  Can  a  fish  live  without  water?  Why,  sir, 
it  has  grown  into  a  proverb  that  it  can  not.  And 
yet  the  gentleman  says  the  turtle  is  a  fish ! 

Do  we  not  all  know  that  you  may  cut  off  a 
turtle's  head,  and  that  it  won't  die  till  the  sun 
goes  down?  Suppose  now  a  modern  Joshua  should 
point  his  sword  at  the  sun  and  command  it  to 
stand  still  in  the  heavens ;  why,  Mr.  Speaker,  the 
turtle  would  live  a  thousand  years  with  its  head 
off.  And  yet  the  gentleman  says  the  turtle  is  a 
fish. 

^EsopN  tells  the  fable  of  the  race  between  the  tor- 
toise and  the  hare,  and  we  are  left  to  believe  that 
it  took  place  on  dry  land— the  author  nowhere  in- 
timating that  it  was  a  swimming  match.  Did  the 
gentleman  from  Gloucester  ever  hear  of  a  Ash  run- 
ning a  quarter  stretch N  and  coming  out  winner  of 
the  silver  cup? 

I  read  but  a  short  time  ago,  Mr.  Speaker,  of  a 
man  who  had  a  lion,  which,  he  offered  to  wager, 
could  whip  any  living  thing.  The  challenge  was 
accepted.  A  snapping  turtle  was  then  produced, 
which  conquered  the  lordly  king  of  beasts  at  the 
first  bite.  Can  the  gentleman  from  Q-loucester 
bring  any  fish  from  York  River  that  will  do  the 
same? 

Again,  a  turtle  has  a  tail ;  now,  what  nature  in- 
tended him  to  do  with  that  particular  member,  I 
can  not  divine.  He  does  not  use  it  like  our  Dar- 
winian ancestors,  the  monkeys,  who  swing  them- 
selves from  the  trees  by  their  tails ;  nor  like  a  cow 
or  mule,  as  a  brush  in  fly-time;  nor  yet  as  our 


FIFTH    READER.  183 

household  pet,  the  dog,  who  wags  a  welcome  to  us 
with  his ;  nor,  finally,  does  he  use  it  to  swim  with. 
And,  sir,  if  the  gentleman  from  Gloucester  ever  saw 
a  fish  who  didn't  use  his  tail  to  swim  with,  then  he 
has  discovered  a  new  and  most  wonderful  variety. 
Mr.  Speaker,  I  will  not  take  up  more  of  the  valu- 
able time  of  the  House  by  further  discussion  of  this 
vexed  question.  I  will  have  only  one  more  shot 
at  the  gentleman,— to  prove  to  him  that  the  turtle 
is  the  oldest  inhabitant  of  the  earth.  Last  summer, 
sir,  I  was  away  up  in  the  mountains  of  Q-iles  County, 
some  two  hundred  miles  from  the  ocean.  One  day 
strolling  leisurely  up  the  mountain  road,  I  found  a 
land  tortoise  or  turtle,  and  picking  him  up,  I  saw 
some  quaint  and  curious  characters  engraved  in  the 
shell  on  his  back.  Through  lapse  of  time  the  letters 
were  nearly  illegible,  but  after  considerable  effort,  I 
made  out  the  inscription,  and  read— 

ADAM.     PARADISE.     YEAR  ONE. 

Mr.  Speaker,  I  have  done.  If  I  have  not  con- 
vinced every  member  on  this  floor,  except  the  gen- 
tleman from  Gloucester,  that  a  turtle  is  not  a  fish, 
then  I  appeal  to  the  wisdom  of  this  House  to  tell 
me  what  it  is  I 

ALEXANDER  HUNTER. 

Notes.  —  Mr.  Speaker  is  the  customary  form  used  in  addressing 
the  presiding  officer  of  an  assembly.  Other  forms  used  for  the 
•ame  purpose  are  —  Mr.  Chairman  and  Mr.  President. 

Ter'ra  pins  are  large  sea-turtles.  They  are  found  in  great 
numbers  in  Chesapeake  Bay.  Their  flesh  is  excellent  for  food. 

Pe  ll'des  means  the  son  of  Pe'le  us;  A-eVl'lSs,  a  famous  Gre- 
cian warrior. 

A  saw  is  an  old  and  true  saying  often  repeated. 

^'sop  was  a  Greek  and  a  writer  of  fables. 

A  quarter  stretch  means  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  and  is  an  expres' 
sion  taken  from  the  race-course. 


184 


FIFTH    READER. 


.  —  LEGEND    OF    THE    CANON. 


fath'omg,  measures  of  length, 

containing  six  feet  each. 
mys'ti-e,  wonderful. 

small  falls  of  water. 


ho^rd,  a  stock  of  any  thing  laid 

up. 

em  bog'om^d,  half  hid. 
al'l^y,  a  narrow  pathway. 


Where  the  sunset's  golden  gleamings 

On  the  rocky  highlands  N  rest, 
'STeath  the  moonlight's  silver  "beamings 

Of  the  distant,  dreamy  West, 
Once  there  roamed  an  Indian  lover, 

With  his  fawn-eyed  Indian  fair,— 
Lover  blithe  as  mountain  rover, 

Maiden  rich  inflowing  hair. 

But  the  sleep  that  knows  no  waking 

Chilled  the  gentle  maiden's  breast, 
And  the  Brave,N  all  hope  forsaking, 

Laid  her  in  the  hill  to  rest,— 
Laid  her  where  the  eye  may  wander 

Far  o'er  slopes  and  ledges  steep, 
And  the  mind  on  billows  ponder— 

Billows  grand,  but  locked  in  sleep. 


Then  the  Brave's  bold  eye  was  darkened, 

And  his  hand  forgot  the  bow; 
Naught  to  human  speech  he  hearkened; 

Naught  but  sorrow  would  he  know. 
Frozen  was  his  heart  of  gladness 

As  the  summits  capped  with  snow; 
Dark  his  soul  with  sullen  sadness 

As  their  cavern  depths  below. 


FIFTH    READER.  183 

But  the  Great,  Good  Spirit N  sought  him— 
Sought  him  in  his  speechless  grief, 

And,  in  kindly  promise,  "brought  him 
Matchless  comfort  and  relief. 

"Come,"  He  said,  "and  see  thy  dearest- 
See  her  in  her  spirit  home; 

Towards  the  Southland— 'tis  the  nearest— 
We  shall  journey,  hither  come!" 

And  they  went— the  Spirit  leading- 
Speeding  with  unmeasured  force; 

Neither  hill  nor  valley  heeding, 

On,  straight  onward,  was  their  course; 

With  the  whirlwind's  footstep  striding, 
By  the  smooth  and  rock-cut  ledge, 

Hills  with  earthquake's  plow  dividing- 
Plowshare  sharp  as  lightning's  edge. 

Such  their  way  through  hill  and  valley, 

Cold  and  narrow,  dark  and  steep, 
Oped  the  rock-embosomed  alley, 

Cut  a  thousand  fathoms  deep. 
Carving,  piercing,  cutting  thorough, 

Toward  the  drowsy  southern  shore, 
The  Spirit  formed  the  mystic  furrow, 

And  told  its  sides  to  meet*  no  more. 

But  the  Spirit,  good,  all-knowing, 

Feared  lest  man's  unresting  race ; 
By  the  mystic  pathway  going, 

Should  mar  the  spirit-hunter's  chase. 
'Twas  then  He  gave  the  torrents  headway ; 

A  thousand,  thousand  streams  were  poured;— 
Twas  then  adown  its  narrow  "bedway 

That  first  the  Colorado N  roared. 


186  FIFTH    READER. 

And  still  the  diamond  drops  are  speeding 

Down  a  million,  rippling  rills, 
The  headlong,  rushing  cascades  feeding 

From  liquid  hoard  of  snow-clad  hills. 
And  still  the  voices  of  the  river 

Within  the  canon's  depths  are  heard, 
In  echoing  sounds  to  speak  forever 

At  the  bidding  of  His  word. 

JEREMIAH  MAHONEY. 


Biography.  —  Jeremiah  Mahoney  was  a  frequent  contributor  to 
periodical  literature.  Only  a  few  of  his  poems  appeared  in  print 
under  his  name.  The  "Legend  of  the  Canon"  fairly  exhibits  his 
poetical  genius. 

Notes  and  Questions.  —  B rave  is  a  name  given  to  an  Indian 
warrior. 

The  Great  Spirit  is  the  Indian  expression  meaning  God. 

The  rocky  highlands  referred  to  in  the  first  stanza  are  the 
Rocky  Mountains. 

Is  it  true  that  the  summits  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  are 
"capped  with  snow"? 

Where  is  the  Colorado  River?  The  word  Colorado  is  Spanish 
and  signifies  red.  This  name  was  given  to  this  river  because  of 
the  reddish  color  of  its  waters. 

What  is  the  depth  of  its  canons?  Is  "  a  thousand  fathoms"  an 
exaggeration  ? 

Elocution.— What  should  be  the  rate  in  reading  this  poem? 
Mark  the  rhetorical  pauses  in  the  first  and  last  stanzas. 
Point  out  the  emphatic  words  in  the  second  stanza. 

Language. — In  the  last  stanza,  word  is  used  instead  of  a  num- 
ber of  words  — as  in  a  command.  The  expression  is  an  example 
of  the  figure  syn  e-e'  do  -ek^e.  Another  example  of  the  same  figure 
occurs  in  the  use  of  the  words  thousand  and  million,  definite  num- 
bers for  what  is  indefinite. 

Synecdoche  is  the  use  of  a  part  for  the  whole;  or  a  whole  for 
a  part;  or  a  definite  number  for  an  indefinite  number. 

Remark. — The  figures  used  thus  far  in  this  book  are  Figures 
of  Rhetoric,  and  will  be  so  called  in  the  future.  They  are  Simile, 
Metaphor,  Personification,  Apostrophe,  Hyperbole,  Metonymy, 
and  Synecdoche. 

Composition.  — Select  the  important  events  narrated  in  the 
poem,  and  write  them  out  in  the  form  of  an  analysis. 


FIFTH    READER.  187 


.  — STANLEY'S     SEARCH     FOR     LIVINGSTONE. 


so  no'rfcjtis,  loud  sounding. 
ma  jSr'i  ty,  greater  number. 
hu  man'i  ty,  mankind. 

,  accounts     of    daily 


events. 
for  ma!"!  ti^§,  customary  forms. 


ex  pans^',  wide  space. 
lu'9id,  clear. 
varan  £e§,  curtains. 
em  bow'er^d,  nearl 
bftp'nish^d,  smooth  and  bright. 
•eon  grat'u  lat^,  wish  him  joy. 


On  the  second  day  after  Stanley's1*  arrival  at  the 
capital  of  Unyanyembe,N  the  Arab  magnates  of  Tabora 
came  to  congratulate  him.  TaboraN  is  the  principal 
Arab  settlement  in  Central  Africa,  with  a  population 
of  about  five  thousand.  The  Arabs  were  fine,  hand- 
some men,  mostly  from  Oman,N  and  each  had  a  large 
retinue  of  servants  with  him. 

After  having  exchanged  the  usual  stock  of  con- 
gratulations, Stanley  accepted  an  invitation  to  re- 
turn the  visit  at  Tabora,  and  three  days  afterward, 
accompanied  by  eighteen  bravely  dressed  soldiers, 
he  was  presented  to  a  group  of  stately  Arabs  in  long 
white  dresses  and  jaunty  caps  of  snowy  white,  and 
introduced  to  the  hospitalities  of  Tabora. 

On  the  20th  of  September,  the  American  flag  was 
again  hoisted,  and  the  caravan,  consisting  of  fifty- 
four  persons,  started  along  the  southern  route  to- 
ward UjijiN  and  Livingstone.N  It  moved  forward 
through  forests  of  immense  extent,  that  stretched 
in  grand  waves  beyond  the  range  of  vision ;— among 
ridges,  forest-clad,  rising  gently  one  above  another, 
until  they  receded  through  a  leafy  ocean  into  the 
purple  "blue  distance,  where  was  only  a  dim  outline 
of  a  hill  far  away. 


188  FIFTH    READER. 

Stanley  next  passed  through  a  grand  and  noble 
expanse  of  grass-land,— which  was  one  of  the  finest 
scenes  he  had  witnessed  since  leaving  the  coast. 
Great  herds  of  "buffalo,  zebra,  giraffe,  and  antelope 
course  through  the  plain,  and  the  expedition  in- 
dulged in  a  day  or  two  of  hunting.  While  crossing 
a  river  at  this  point,  Stanley  narrowly  escaped  being 
devoured  by  a  crocodile,  but  cared  little  for  the  dan- 
ger, led  on,  as  he  was,  by  the  excitement  of  stalking 
wild  boars  and  shooting  buffalo  cows. 

Now  from  time  to  time,  Stanley  heard,  from  pass- 
ing savages,  occasional  rumors  of  the  presence  of 
white  men  at  various  points.  This  encouraged  him 
to  believe  that  Livingstone  was  not  far  off,  and  gave 
him  the  necessary  boldness  to  traverse  the  great  wil- 
derness beyond  Marara,N  the  crossing  of  which  he  was 
warned  would  occupy  nine  days.  The  negroes  be- 
came exceedingly  pleased  at  the  prospect  of  their 
journey's  end.  They  therefore  boldly  turned  their 
faces  north  and  marched  for  the  Malagarazi,N  a  large 
river  flowing  from  the  east  to  Lake  Tanganyika.N 

On  the  1st  of  November,  they  arrived  at  the  long- 
looked-for  river,  and,  after  crossing  the  ferry,  they 
met  a  caravan  coming  from  the  interior,  and  were 
told  that  a  white  man  had  just  arrived  at  Ujiji. 

"A  white  man?"   cried  Stanley. 

"Yes,  an  old  white  man,  with  white  hair  on  his 
face,  and  he  was  sick." 

"Where  did  he  come  from?" 

"From  a  very  far  country  indeed." 

"Where  was  he— staying  at  Ujiji?" 

"  Yes." 

"And  was  he  ever  at  Ujiji  before?" 

"Yes;  he  went  away  a  long  time  ago." 


FIFTH    READER.  189 

"  Hurra ! "  said  Stanley ;  "  this  must  be  Living- 
stone." 

He  determined  to  hasten  forward  at  all  hazards. 
The  caravan  arrived  on  the  8th  of  November  at  the 
Rugufu N  River,  at  which  point  they  could  distinctly 
hear  the  thunders  from  the  mysterious  torrents 
which  rolled  into  the  hollow  recesses  of  KabogoN" 
Mountain  on  the  farther  side  of  Lake  Tanganyika. 
This  noise  gave  Stanley  the  heartiest  joy,  because 
he  knew  that  he  was  only  forty-six  miles  from 
Ujiji,  and  possibly  Livingstone. 

About  midday  on  the  9th  of  November,  they 
reached  a  beautiful  series  of  valleys,  where  wild 
fruit-trees  grew,  and  rare  flowers  blossomed.  On 
this  day  they  caught  sight  of  the  hills  from  which 
Lake  Tanganyika  could  be  seen.  Stanley  ordered 
his  boy,  Selim,  to  brush  up  his  tattered  traveling 
suits,  that  he  might  make  as  good  an  appearance 
as  possible. 

On  the  two  hundred  and  thirty-sixth  day  from 
Bagamoyo,N  and  the  fifty-first  day  from  Unyanyembe, 
they  saw  Lake  Tanganyika  spread  out  before  them, 
and  around  it  the  great,  blue-black  mountains  of 
UgomaN  and  Ukaramba.N  It  was  an  immense,  broad 
sheet— a  burnished  bed  of  silver— a  lucid  canopy  of 
blue  above,  lofty  mountains  for  its  valances,  and 
palm  forests  for  its  fringes.  Descending  the  western 
slope  of  the  mountain,  the  port  of  Ujiji  lay  below, 
embowered  in  palms. 

"Unfurl  your  flags  and  load  your  guns!"  cried 
Stanley. 

"  Yes,  yes ! "   eagerly  responded  the  men. 

"  One,  two,  three ! "  and  a  volley  from  fifty  mus- 
kets woke  up  the  peaceful  village  below,  The  Amer- 


19O  FIFTH    READER. 

lean  flag  was  raised  aloft  once  more ;  the  men 
stepped  out  "bravely  as  the  crowds  of  villagers  came 
nocking  around  them. 

Suddenly,  Stanley  heard  a  voice  on  his  right  say 
in    English,    "  G-ood-morning,    sir."      A    black    man 
dressed  in  a  long,  white  shirt,  announced  himself 
•  as  "  Susi,"  the  servant  of  Dr.  Livingstone. 

"What!     Is  Dr.  Livingstone  here?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"In  the  village?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Are  you  sure  ?  " 

"Sure,  sure,  sir.     Why,  I  left  him  just  now." 

Then  another  servant  introduced  himself;  the 
crowds  nocked  around  anew;  and  finally,  at  the 
head  of  his  caravan,  Stanley  found  himself  "before 
a  semicircle  of  Arab  magnates,  in  front  of  whom 
stood  an  old  white  man,  with  a  gray  "beard. 

As  Stanley  advanced  toward  him,  he  noticed 
that  he  was  pale,  looked  wearied,  had  on  his  head 
a  bluish  cap,  with  a  faded  gold  band  around  it,  a 
red-sleeved  waistcoat,  and  a  pair  of  gray  tweed 
trousers.  He  walked  to  him,  took  off  his  hat,  and 
said,  "Dr.  Livingstone,  I  presume." 

"Yes,"  said  he,  with  a  smile,  lifting  his  cap 
slightly. 

Then  they  clasped  hands,  and  after  the  necessary 
formalities  with  the  Arab  magnates,  Stanley  ex- 
plained himself  and  his  mission. 

It  was  a  great  day  for  the  old  explorer.  There 
were  letters  from  his  children.  "  Ah  ! "  he  said  pa- 
tiently, "I  have  waited  years  for  letters."  And  you 
may  picture  for  yourselves  that  strangely  met  pair, 
seated  in  the  explorer's  house,  Livingstone  hearing 


FIFTH    READER.  191 

for  the  first  time  of  the  great  changes  in  Eu- 
rope. 

They  sat  long  together,  with  their  faces  turned 
eastward,  noting  the  dark  shadows  creeping  up 
above  the  groves  of  palms  beyond  the  village,  and 
the  rampart  of  mountains ;  listening  to  the  sonor- 
ous thunder  of  the  surf  of  Tanganyika,  and  to  the 
dreamy  chorus  which  the  night  insects  sang. 

Mr.  Stanley  remained  four  months  in  the  com- 
pany of  Dr.  Livingstone,  during  which  time  an  in- 
timate and  rich  friendship  grew  up  between  the 
two  men.  From  November  10,  1871,  until  March 
14,  1872,  they  were  together  daily.  Dr.  Living- 
stone had  been  in  Africa  since  March,  1866.  He 
left  Zanzibar  in  April  of  that  year  for  the  interior, 
with  thirty  men,  and  worked  studiously  at  his 
high  mission  of  correcting  the  errors  of  former 
travelers  until  early  in  1869,  when  he  arrived  at 
Ujiji  and  took  a  brief  rest. 

He  had  been  deserted  in  the  most  cowardly  man- 
ner by  the  majority  of  his  followers,  and  was  much 
of  the  time  in  want.  At  the  end  of  June,  1869,  he 
went  on  to  a  lake  into  which  the  LualabaN  ran, 
and  then  was  compelled  to  return  the  weary  dis- 
tance of  seven  hundred  miles  to  Ujiji.  The  mag- 
nificent result  of  his  labors,  both  in  the  interest 
of  science  and  humanity,  are  now  known  to  all  the 
world. 

Livingstone  returned  with  Stanley  to  Unyan- 
yembe,  and  on  the  14th  of  March  the  two  men 
parted,  not  without  tears.  It  was  not  until  sunset 
on  the  6th  of  May,  that  the  worn  and  fatigued 
Stanley  re-entered  Bagamoyo.  The  next  morning 
he  crossed  to  Zanzibar,  and  thence  as  soon  as  pos- 


192  FIFTH    READER. 

sible  departed  for  Europe  with.  his  precious  freight— 
tlie   Livingstone  journals  and  letters,  and  his   own 

rich  experience. 

EDWARD  KING. 

Biography.  —  David  Livingstone,  the  famous  African  traveler 
and  missionary,  was  born  in  Lanarkshire,  Scotland,  in  1813,  and 
died  in  the  wilds  of  Africa  in  1873. 

Dr.  Livingstone's  travels  extended  over  nearly  one-third  of 
the  African  continent,  and  his  written  accounts  of  them  form 
highly  instructive  and  interesting  works.  The  importance  of  the 
discoveries  made  during  the  thirty  years  of  his  life  in  Africa 
can  not  be  overestimated.  One  result  of  his  labors  was  the 
agitation  of  the  subject  of  the  African  slave-trade  and  its 
eventual  suppression. 

In  1871,  Henry  M.  Stanley  was  selected  by  Mr.  James  G-6r- 
don  Bennett,  proprietor  of  "The  New  York  Herald,"  to  undertake 
the  arduous  task  of  finding  Dr.  Livingstone,  of  whom  no  tidings 
had  been  received  for  five  years. 

Stanley  was  entirely  successful  in  his  search,  and  succeeded 
both  in  finding  and  relieving  Dr.  Livingstone  at  a  time  when  he 
was  most  in  need. 

Stanley  gained  at  once  an  enviable  reputation  as  a  traveler 
and  explorer,  and  in  1876,  some  years  after  Livingstone's  death, 
succeeded  in  penetrating  and  crossing  the  African  continent.  The 
particulars  in  regard  to  this  wonderful  exploit  were  published  by 
Stanley  in  that  remarkable  book— "Through  the  Dark  Conti- 
nent." His  record  of  discovery  has  created  such  intense  interest 
in  what  was  before  an  unpopular  field  for  travelers,  that  many 
other  bold  adventurers  have  since  chosen  "The  Dark  Conti- 
nent" as  the  scene  of  their  labors. 

Notes. —  O'man  is  a  strip  of  territory  lying  at  the  most  eastern 
extremity  of  Arabia. 

TJjiji   is  a  town  situated  on  Lake  Tanganyika. 

Tin  yan  yem'  be,  is  a  province  near  the  eastern  shore  of  tropical 
Africa. 

Ba  ga  mo'  yo  is  a  sea-port  on  the  Indian  Ocean. 

Other  geographical  names  in  the  lesson  are  pronounced  as 
follows:  Tabo'ra,  Mara'ra,  Malagara'zi,  Rugu'fu,  Kabo'go, 
TJgo'ma,  TJkaram'ba,  Luala'ba. 

Language.  — What  is  the  meaning  of  "Bravely  dressed"  and 
of  "A  leafy  ocean"? 

Composition.  —  Select  six  prominent  events  described  in  the 
lesson  and  unite  them  in  the  form  of  a  complete  analysis  of  the 
lesson, 


FIFTH    READER.  193 


.— TYPHOONS    AND    WATER-SPOUTS. 


sub  sid'ing,  failing;    becoming 

quiet. 

nav'  i  gat^,  sail. 
ab'so  lat^,  total. 
9y  lin'dri-e  al,  having  the  form 

of  a  cylinder. 
a  baths',  grows  less;  subsides. 


per  pen  dl-e'  u  lar,  exactly  up- 

right; at  rigM  angles  with. 
re  v61v'ing, 


es  te^m^d',  valued. 

phe  n6m'e  na,  strange  or  un- 

usual things. 
mar'i  ner,  a  sailor  or  seaman. 


The  ships  that  navigate  the  Indian  Ocean  have 
occasionally  to  encounter  terrific  tempests,  called 
typhoons,  which  are  peculiar  to  those  seas,  and 
which,  with  the  hurricanes  of  the  opposite  hemis- 
phere, are  the  most  furious  storms  that  blow. 

They  rise  with  fearful  rapidity,  often  coming  on 
suddenly  with  a  calm;  and  before  the  canvas  can 
be  secured,  the  gale  is  howling  shrilly  through  the 
spars  and  rigging,  and  the  crests  of  the  waves  are 
torn  off,  and  driven  in  sheets  of  spray  across  the 
decks. 

The  lightning  is  terrible;  at  very  short  intervals 
the  whole  space  between  heaven  and  earth  is  filled 
with  vivid  flame,  showing  every  rope  and  spar  in 
the  darkest  night  as  distinctly  as  in  the  broadest 
sunshine,  and  then  leaving  the  sight  obscured  in 
pitchy  darkness  for  several  seconds  after  each  flash- 
darkness  the  most  intense  and  absolute;  not  that 
of  the  night,  but  the  effect  of  the  blinding  glare 
upon  the  eye. 

The  thunder,  too,  peals,  now  in  loud,  sharp, 
startling  explosions,  now  in  long  muttered  growls, 
all  around  the  horizon.  In  the  height  of  the  gale, 
curious  electrical  lights,  called  St.  Elmo's  fires>  are 


194  FIFTH    READER. 

seen  on  the  projecting  points  of  the  masts  and 
upper  spars,  appearing  from  the  deck  like  dim  stars. 
Soon  after  their  appearance  the  gale  abates,  and 
presently  clears  away  with  a  rapidity  equal  to  that 
which  marks  its  approach. 

These  storms  are  found,  by  carefully  comparing 
the  direction  of  the  wind  at  the  same  time  in 
different  places,  or  successively  at  the  same  place, 
to  blow  in  a  vast  circle  around  a  center;  a  fact  of 
the  utmost  importance,  as  an  acquaintance  with 
this  law  will  frequently  enable  the  mariner  so  to 
determine  the  course  of  his  ship  as  to  steer  out  of 
the  circle,  and  consequently  out  of  danger,  when, 
in  ignorance,  he  might  sustain  the  whole  fury  of 
the  tempest.  The  course  of  a  circle  is  the  opposite 
of  that  taken  by  the  hands  of  a  watch,  and  is  the 
same  as  that  of  the  still  more  striking  phenomena 
called  water-spouts. 

Water-spouts  are,  perhaps,  the  most  majestic  of 
all  those  "works  of  the  Lord,  and  His  wonders  in 
the  deep,"  which  they  behold  who  "go  down  to 
the  sea  in  ships."  They  frequently  appear  as  per- 
pendicular columns,  apparently  of  many  hundred 
feet  in  height,  and  three  feet  or  more  in  diameter, 
reaching  from  the  surface  of  the  sea  to  the  clouds. 
The  edge  of  the  pillar  is  perfectly  clean  and  well  de- 
nned, and  the  effect  has  been  compared  to  a  column 
of  frosted  glass. 

A  series  of  spiral  lines  runs  around  it,  and  the 
whole  has  a  rapid  spiral  motion,  which  is  very  ap- 
parent, though  it  is  not  always  easy  to  determine 
whether  it  is  an  ascending  or  descending  line. 
G-enerally,  the  body  of  clouds  above  descend  below 
Joining  tto  pillar  iu 


FIFTH    READER.  198 

of  a  funnel,  but  sometimes  the  summit  is  invisible, 
from  its  becoming  gradually  more  rare.  Much,  more 
constant  is  the  presence  of  a  visible  foot;  the  sea 
being  raised  in  a  great  heap,  with  a  whirling  and 
bubbling  motion,  the  upper  part  of  which  is  lost 
in  the  mass  of  spray  and  foam  which  is  driven 
rapidly  round. 

The  column,  or  columns— for  there  are  frequently 
more  than  one— mov3  slowly  forward  with  a  stately 
and  majestic  step,  sometimes  inclining  to  the  per- 
pendicular, now  becoming  curved,  and  now  taking 
a  twisted  form.  Sometimes  the  mass  becomes  more 
and  more  transparent,  and  gradually  vanishes;  at 
others,  it  separates,  the  base  subsiding,  and  the 
upper  portion  shortening  with  a  whirling  motion 
till  lost  in  the  clouds. 

The  pillar  is  not  always  cylindrical;  a  very  fre- 
quent form  is  that  of  a  slender  funnel  depending 
from  the  sky,  which  sometimes  retains  that  appear- 
ance without  alteration,  or,  at  others,  lengthens  its 
tube  toward  the  sea,  which  at  the  same  time  begins 
to  boil  and  rise  in  a  hill  to  meet  it,  and  soon  the 
two  unite  and  form  a  slender  column,  as  first 
described. 

When  these  sublime  appearances  are  viewed  from 
a  short  distance,  they  are  attended  with  a  rushing 
noise  somewhat  like  the  roar  of  a  cataract.  The 
phenomenon  is  doubtless  the  effect  of  a  whirlwind 
or  current  of  air  revolving  with  great  rapidity  and 
violence,  and  the  lines  which  are  seen  are  probably 
drops  of  water  ascending  in  the  cloudy  column. 

They  are  esteemed  highly  dangerous;  instances 
have  "been  known  in  which  vessels  that  have  been 
toy  tksxu  have  laeeix  uist*atly  dismasted  stud 


196  FIFTH    READER. 

left  a  total  wreck.  It  is  supposed  that  any  sudden 
shock  will  cause  a  rupture  in  the  mass  and  destroy 
it;  and  hence  it  is  customary  for  ships  to  fire  a 
cannon  at  such  as,  from  their  proximity,  there  is 
any  reason  to  dread. 

Typhoons  are  seen  in  all  parts  of  the  world,  but 
are  most  frequent  in  the  Pacific  and  Indian  Oceans. 

PHILIP  HENRY  GOSSE. 


Biography.  —  Philip  Henry  Gosse  -was  born  in  Worcester,  Eng- 
land, in  1810. 

Early  in  life  he  evinced  an  aptitude  for  natural  history,  and 
after  reaching  manhood,  set  out  on  his  travels  over  different 
parts  of  the  world.  His  first  important  work,  "  The  Canadian 
Naturalist,"  was  published  in  1840.  Some  years  later,  he  returned 
to  England,  where  he  continued  his  researches  and  published  a 
number  of  works  on  geology  and  natural  history. 

The  style  of  Gosse  is  clear  and  pleasing,  and  the  enthusiasm 
of  the  scientist  pervades  every  page  of  his  writings. 

His  principal  works,  aside  from  a  number  of  excellent  text- 
books for  schools,  are:  "Birds  of  Jamaica,"  "Ocean  Described," 
"British  Ornithology,"  "Bivers  of  the  Bible,"  "The  Aquarium," 
and  "Tenby,  a  Sea-side  Holiday." 

Language. — In  the  first  paragraph,  canvas  is  employed  for  sails, 
—  an  example  of  the  use  of  a  material  instead  of  the  articles 
made  from  it.  The  expression  is  an  illustration  of  the  figure 
metonymy. 

In  the  second  paragraph,  on  page  195,  — "The  columns  move 
forward  with  a  stately  and  majestic  step."  What  figure  of  rhet- 
oric is  used?  Explain  the  comparison  and  state  whether  or  not 
you  think  it  is  a  good  one. 

What  kind  of  sentence  is  the  first  one  in  the  third  paragraph  ? 
What  is  its  subject?  What  is  its  predicate?  The  expression  "In 
loud,  sharp,  startling  explosions "  is  a  modifier  of  the  action-woi-d 
(verb)  "peals,"  and  is  therefore  an  adverb  or  adverbial  phrase. 

A  phrn.se  is  a  combination  of  two  or  more  words,  not  contain- 
ing an  action-word  and  its  subject. 

The  phrase  given  above  is  made  up  of  the  relation-ward  (prepo- 
sition) "in"  and  the  name-word  "explosions"  -with  its  modifiers 
"loud,"  "sharp,"  and  "startling." 

Point  out  three  phrases  in  the  last  sentence  of  the  lesson. 
The  relation-words,  (prepositions)  introducing  them  are  "in,"  "  qf k" 
aoid  "to," 


FIFTH     READER.  197 


£3.  —  AN     ORDER     FOR     A     PICTURE. 

,  dry;  withered.  '   ad  vent'ur  &?us,  daring;  cour- 


sas'sa  fras,  a  tree  of  the  laurel 

family. 

tjir'ching,  children. 
su'ma-elQ.,  a  plant  or  shrub. 


ageous. 


tyfts,    pleasing    to 


sight. 


re  pro^eh'ful,  expressing  blame 


O  good  painter,  tell  me  true, 

Has  your  hand  the  cunning  to  draw 
Shapes  of  things  that  you  never  saw? 

Ay?     Well,  here  is  an  order  for  you. 

Woods  and  corn  fields,  a  little  brown,— 
The  picture  must  not  "be  over  bright — 
Yet  all  in  the  golden  and  gracious  light 
Of  a  cloud,  when  the  summer  sun  is  down, 
Alway  and  alway,  night  and  morn, 
Woods  upon  woods,  with  fields  of  corn 
Lying  between  them,  not  quite  sere, 
And  not  in  the  full,  thick,  leafy  bloom, 
When  the  wind  can  hardly  find  breathing-room 

Under  their  tassels,— cattle  near, 
Biting  shorter  the  short  green  grass, 
And  a  hedge  of  sumach  and  sassafras, 
With  bluebirds  twittering  all  around,— 
Ah,  good  painter,  you  can't  paint  sound !  — 
These,  and  the  house  where  I  was  born, 
Low  and  little,  and  black  and  old, 
With  children,  many  as  it  can  hold, 
All  at  the  windows,  open  wide,— 
Heads  and  shoulders  clear  outside, 
And  fair  young  faces  all  a-blush: 

Perhaps  you  may  have  seen,  some  day, 


198  FIFTH    RSADEE. 

Roses  crowding  the  self-same  way, 
Out  of  a  wilding,  wayside  bush. 

Listen  closer.     When  you  have  done 

With  woods  and  corn  fields  and  grazing  herds, 

A  lady,  the  loveliest  ever  the  sun 
Looked  down  upon  you  must  paint  for  me; 
O,  if  I  only  could  make  you  see 

The  clear  blue  eyes,  the  tender  smile, 
The  sovereign  sweetness,  the  gentle  grace, 
The  woman's  soul,  and  the  angel's  face 

That  are  beaming  on  me  all  the  while, 

I  need  not  speak  these  foolish  words: 

Yet  one  word  tells  you  all  I  would  say,— 
She  is  my  mother:  you  will  agree 

That  all  the  rest  may  be  thrown  away. 

Two  little  urchins  at  her  knee 
You  must  paint,  sir:   one  like  me,— 
The  other  with  a  clearer  brow, 

And  the  light  of  his  adventurous  eyes 

Flashing  with  boldest  enterprise: 
At  ten  years  old  he  went  to  sea,— 

God  knoweth  if  he  be  living  now,— 

He  sailed  in  the  good  ship  Commodore, 
Nobody  ever  crossed  her  track 
To  bring  us  news,  and  she  never  came  back. 

Ah,  it  is  twenty  long  years  and  more 
Since  that  old  ship  went  out  of  the  bay 

With  my  great-hearted  brother  on  her  deck: 

I  watched  him  till  he  shrunk  to  a  speck, 
And  his  face  was  toward  me  all  the  way. 
Bright  his  hair  was,  a  golden  brown, 

The  time  we  stood  at  our  mother's  knee ; 


FIFTH    READER.  199 

That  beauteous  liead,  if  it  did  go  down, 
Carried  sunshine  into  the  sea. 

Out  in  the  fields  one  summer  night 

We  were  together,  half  afraid 

Of  the  corn-leaves'  rustling,  and  of  the  shade 

Of  the  high  hills,  stretching  so  still  and  far,— 
Loitering  till  after  the  low  little  light 

Of  the  candle  shone  through  the  open  door, 
And  over  the  hay-stack's  pointed  top, 
All  of  a  tremble,  and  ready  to  drop, 

The  first  half-hour,  the  great  yellow  star, 

That  we,  with  staring,  ignorant  eyes, 
Had  often  and  often  watched  to  see 
Propped  and  held  in  its  place  in  the  skies 
By  the  fork  of  a  tall,  red  mulberry-tree, 

Which  close  in  the  edge  of  our  flax  field  grew,— 
Dead  at  the  top,— just  one  branch  full 
Of  leaves,  notched  round,  and  lined  with  wool, 

From  which  it  tenderly  shook  the  dew 
Over  our  heads,  when  we  came  to  play 
In  its  hand-breadth  of  shadow,  day  after  day. 

Afraid  to  go  home,  sir ;   for  one  of  us  bore 
A  nestful  of  speckled  and  thin-shelled  eggs,— 
The  other,  a  bird,  held  fast  by  the  legs, 
Not  so  big  as  a  straw  of  wheat : 
The  berries  we  gave  her  she  wouldn't  eat, 
But  cried  and  cried,  till  we  held  her  bill, 
So  slim  and  shining,  to  keep  her  still. 

At  last  we  stood  at  our  mother's  knee. 
Do  you  think,  sir,  if  you  try, 
You  can  paint  the  look  of  a  lie? 
If  you  can,  pray  have  the  grace 


2OO  FIFTH    READER. 

To  put  it  solely  in  the  face 
Of  the  urchin  that  is  likest  me: 

I  think  'twas  solely  mine,  indeed : 
But  that's  no  matter,— paint  it  so; 

The  eyes  of  our  mother — take  good  heed  — 
Looking-  not  on  the  nestful  of  eggs, 
ISTor  the  fluttering  "bird,  held  so  fast  by  the  legs, 
But  straight  through  our  faces  down  to  our  lies, 
And,  O,  with  such  injured,  reproachful  surprise ! 

I  felt  my  heart  bleed  where  that  glance  went,  as 
though 

A  sharp  blade  struck  through  it. 

You,  sir,  know 

That  you  on  the  canvas  are  to  repeat 
Things  that  are  fairest,  things  most  sweet;— 
Woods  and  corn  fields  and  mulberry-tree,— 
The  mother,— the  lads,  with  their  bird,  at  her  knee : 

But,  O,  that  look  of  reproachful  woe ! 
High  as  the  heavens  your  name  I'll  shout, 
If  you  paint  me  the  picture,  and  leave  that  out. 

ALICE  GARY. 


Biography.— Alice  Gary  was  born  near  Cincinnati,  Ohio,  in 
1820,  and  died  in  New  York  City  in  1871. 

Her  first  poems  were  published  in  periodicals,  and  soon  at- 
tracted general  attention.  In  1850,  in  company  with  her  sister 
Phoebe,  she  removed  to  New  York  City,  where  she  continued  her 
literary  labors  until  the  time  of  her  death. 

Miss  Gary's  genius  in  both  prose  and  poetry  has  not  been  ex- 
celled by  any  other  woman  in  America.  Her  style  has  a  peculiar 
charm— the  charm  of  the  woman  as  well  as  of  the  poet. 

Her  principal  works  are  :  "  Clovernook  Sketches,"  "Lyra  and 
Other  Poems,"  "Hagar,"  "Ballads,  Lyrics,  and  Hymns,"  "Pict- 
ures of  Country  Life,"  and  "Stories  Told  to  a  Child." 

Elocution.  — With  what  tone  of  voice,  rate,  and  force,  should  the 
different  parts  of  the  poem  be  read?  Point  out  the  places  where 
a  change  of  feeling  occurs. 


FIFTH    READER.  2O1 


.—  ALADDIN'S     CAVE. 


se  pul'-el^ral,  as  if  from  the 
grave. 


•e6n  fla  gra'tion,  a  very  large 
fire. 


n  ^§m,  workmanship, 
ar-e,  a  part  of  a  curve. 
plum  ba'go,  black  lead. 
•eon  dgns^d',  made  close, 


mis  no'  mer,  using  one 

for  another. 

,  punished;  struck  with  a      u  ni'que'  (neek),  without  a  tike; 
flat  piece  of  wood. 
fur'  na9  e§,  closed  places  to  keep 

a  hot  fire  in. 

sal'  a    man'  der,    an   animal 
falsely  thought  to  be  able  to  bear 
great  heat. 
ve'he  ment,  furious. 

You  climb  the  pyramid  of  steps  and  enter  halls 
and  rooms  that  with  their  stone  floors,  walls,  and 
ceilings,  are  rocky  as  the  Mammoth  Cave.  Every 
thing  reverberates.  The  voice  has  a  sepulchral  ring. 
If  you  can  fancy  a  vehement  ghost  calling  the  cows, 
you  know  how  it  sounds. 

Your  gentle-spoken  friend  talks  so  loud  you  can 
not  hear  him.  You  are  in  the  mill  where  money 
is  made.  You  see  the  raw  material,  fresh  from  the 
mines,  piled  around  like  bricks  in  a  kiln.  They  are 
bricks.  Here  is  enough  in  this  vault  to  build  a 
stone  wall  of  gold  around  your  garden  spot. 

The  precious  metals  run  to  brick  here,  brick 
without  straw.  Ah,  if  the  poor  Israelites  had  pos- 
sessed such  material  to  work,  there  would  have  been 
no  complaint  in  Pharaoh's  brick-yard.  Here  are 
four  gold  cubes.  They  weigh  about  ninety  pounds 
apiece.  You  can  carry  a  couple  for  the  gift  of  them, 
and  you  would  have  fifty  thousand  dollars. 

Yonder  are  two  pieces  of  hardware  from  Mexico. 
They  are  gold  and  silver  together,  and  shaped  a 
little  like  blacksmiths'  anvils  before  their  horns  are 


FIFTH    READER. 


grown.  They  are  awkward  things  to  handle,  for 
they  have  no  bails  to  them,  and  they  weigh  more 
than  five  hundred  pounds  apiece.  They  are  made 
to  "be  robber  proof,  for  if  Mexican  bandits  attacked 
the  train,  they  could  not  very  well  get  off  with 
such  hardware  at  their  saddle-bows. 

Nothing  here  puzzles  you  like  values.  They  are 
condensed  into  a  wonderfully  small  compass.  You 
are  in  the  gold  ingot  room,  and  you  pick  up  a  bar 
about  a  foot  long,  an  inch  and  a  half  wide,  and 
three  times  as  thick  as  the  snug-setting  maple  ruler 
with  which  you  used  to  be  feruled.  You  could 
slip  it  up  your  sleeve  if  that  gray-eyed  man,  who 
would  be  your  "man  of  destiny"  if  you  did  it,  were 
not  looking  at  you.  You  mentally  cut  it  into  eagles 
as  you  hold  it,  and  it  turns  out  sixty  of  them,  but 
the  melter  quietly  tells  you  it  is  worth  fifteen  hun- 
dred dollars.  I  laid  mine  down  immediately. 

You  follow  a  brick  of  gold  into  the  Melting  De- 
partment. Here  is  weather  for  you.  The  twelve 
furnaces  are  glowing  all  about  you.  The  iron  eye- 
lid of  one  of  them  is  thrown  up,  and  the  very  es- 
sence of  fire  winks  at  you.  "When  you  are  108°  it  is 
your  last  fever.  When  the  steam  is  212°  away  dashes 
the  locomotive.  But  here  is  a  crucible  in  the  heart 
of  a  fire  urged  to  a  volcanic  glow  of  2,112°.  In  the 
crucible  is  gold,  and  the  gold  boils  like  a  tea-kettle. 
If  you  are  curious  to  know  what  the  salamander  of 
a  crucible  is  made  of,  it  is  sand  and  plumbago. 
The  air  you  breathe  before  the  furnace  doors  is 
130°. 

The  men—  -some  of  them  are  giants—  are  stripped 
like  athletes.  Sweat  rolls  off  like  rain.  The  floor  is 
stone,  and  carpeted  with  iron  lattice.  Every  day 


FIFTfl    READER. 


this  is  removed,  the  dust  swept  up  and  saved  for 
the  precious  particles  that  may  be  in  it.  There  is 
no  such  thing  as  a  trine  in  this  mint. 

Gold  and  silver  are  in  unsuspected  places.  They 
are  in  the  air,  in  the  water,  under  foot.  There  is 
little  you  can  call  "dirt"  in  most  parts  of  the  Mint 
without  "being  guilty  of  a  misnomer.  And  just  here 
we  may  as  well  gossip  by  the  way  about  the  curious 
domestic  fashions  within  these  walls. 

For  one  of  them,  they  wash  their  clothes  once 
a  year  !  The  rough  dresses  of  the  men  in  the  fur- 
nace room,  and  out  of  which  they  husk  themselves 
daily  when  the  work  is  done,  never  leave  the  Mint 
after  they  enter  it,  until  they  have  been  washed 
span-clean.  The  method  of  washing  is  unique.  They 
just  put  them  in  the  furnaces,  and  they  are  cleansed 
in  a  twinkling.  A  ten-dollar  suit  may  be  worth  five 
after  it  is  burned  up,  and  an  old  apron  bring  money 
enough  to  buy  a  new  one. 

When  they  take  up  carpets  they  do  not  beat 
them  with  whips  and  broomsticks,  after  the  manner 
of  good  housewives,  filling  their  lungs  with  dust 
and  the  premises  with  confusion,  but  they  just 
bundle  them  bodily  into  the  fire  ;  and  it  is  gener- 
ally calculated  that  the  destruction  of  an  old  car- 
pet, after  three  years  of  wear,  will  about  buy  a  new 
one. 

A  mint  is  the  only  place  in  the  world  where  a 
conflagration  produces  its  own  insurance  money. 
The  ashes  of  these  clothes  and  carpets  are  carefully 
gathered,  sifted  and  washed,  and  out  come  the 
truant  gold  and  silver  they  contain. 

You  see  scales,  the  most  delicate  pieces  of  mech- 
anism. The  wave  of  a  butterfly's  wing  could  blow 


2O4  FIFTH     READER. 

the  truth,  away  from  them.  They  hang  in  glass 
houses  of  their  own.  "  Let  us  weigh  ari— animal. 
Let  us  go  hunting.  Let  us  catch  a  fly."  We  cap- 
tured a  victim  and  drove  him  upon  the  scale  as  if 
he  were  a  bullock.  A  weight  was  put  in  the  other 
dish,  and  our  mammoth  made  it  kick  the  beam. 
The  long,  slender  index  depending  from  the  balanc- 
ing point,  and  describing  an  arc  on  the  graduated 
ivory  when  the  scales  are  moved,  swung  through 
ten  spaces  when  the  monster  was  put  aboard ! 

The  brown  house-fly  pulled  down  the  dish  at 
thirty-one  thousandths  of  seven  and  a  half  grains 
— and  he  was  only  in  good  flying  order  at  that. 
Then  one  wing  was  lifted  upon  the  scale,  and  it 
astonished  us  to  see  what  a  regiment  of  heavy 
figures  it  took  to  tell  how  light  it  was,  that  bit  of 
an  atmospheric  oar. 

Have  you  never  thought  that  things  may  be  so 
enormously  little  as  to  be  tremendously  great?  "We 
go  to  the  Assaying  Department,  where  they  weigh 
next  to  nothing,  and  keep  an  account  of  it.  Here 
are  scales  where  a  girl's  eyelash  will  give  the  index 
the  swing  of  a  pendulum.  The  smallest  weight  is 
an  atom  of  aluminum,  the  lightest  of  the  mineral 
family,  that  you  could  carry  in  your  eye  and  not 
think  there  was  a,  beam  in  it.  Its  weight  is  5-10 
of  1-100  of  1-2  of  1-24  of  one  ounce.  It  would  take 
ninety-six  hundred  of  those  metallic  motes  to  weigh 
a  humming-bird. 

BENJAMIN  F.  TAYLOR. 

Biography.  — Benjamin  Franklin  Taylor  was  born  in  Xew  York 
in  1822,  and  educated  at  Madison  University,  of  which  institu- 
tion his  father  was  President. 

Taylor's  career  has  been  full  of  romantic  incident.     For  many 


FIFTH    READER.  2O8 


years  he  discharged  the  duties  of  a  journalist.  His  writings  show 
a  knowledge  of  both  the  last  and  the  present  generation  of  the 
American  people.  His  style  is  characterized  by  artistic  taste  and 
a  careful  handling  of  details.  Under  his  treatment  even  dry 
subjects  become  bright  and  interesting. 

Of  Taylor's  numerous  works  we  may  mention  the  following 
as  good  specimens  of  his  genius:  "Pictures  of  Life  in  Camp  and 
Field,"  "Old-Time  Pictures,"  "The  World  on  Wheels,"  "Songs  of 
Yesterday,"  and  "Between  the  Gates." 

Language.  — How  do  the  short  sentences  used  in  the  lesson 
affect  our  interest? 


.  —  AN    EXPLOIT    OF    SIR    WILLIAM    WALLACE.* 


ex  pi o it',  a  great  deed. 

prow'es^,  bravery. 

a^:£  Il'ia  ry    (awg  zil'  ya  ry), 

.  helping;  aiding. 
cham' pi  on,  one  ready  to  fight 

all  who  offer  against  him. 
do  min'ion  (mm'yun),  rule. 


ap  pre  hen'sion,  alarm. 
faX'-e^n,  a  bird  of  prey. 
grap'pling-i'ron§  (urn§),  in- 


•com  pro's  i^d',  pressed  together; 
brought  within  narrow  space. 


•eon  fer^d',  granted. 


During  the  brief  career  of  the  celebrated  pa- 
triot, Sir  William  Wallace,  and  when  his  arms  had 
for  a  time  expelled  the  English  invaders  from  his 
native  country,  he  is  said  to  have  undertaken  a 
voyage  to  France,  with  a  small  band  of  trusty 
friends,  to  try  what  his  presence — for  he  was  re- 
spected through  all  countries  for  his  prowess — 
might  do  to  induce  the  French  monarch  to  send 
to  Scotland  a  body  of  auxiliary  forces,  or  other 
assistance,  to  aid  the  Scots  in  regaining  their  inde- 
pendence. 

The  Scottish  champion  was  on  board  a  small 
vessel,  and  steering  for  the  port  of  Dieppe,  when  a 
sail  appeared  in  the  distance,  which,  the  mariners  re- 


206  FIFTH    READER. 

garded  at  first  with  doubt  and  apprehension,  and  at 
last  with,  confusion  and  dismay.  Wallace  demanded 
to  know  what  was  the  cause  of  their  alarm. 

The  captain  of  the  ship  informed  him,  that  the 
tall  vessel  which  was  bearing  down,  with  the  pur- 
pose of  boarding  that  which  he  commanded,  was 
the  ship  of  a  celebrated  rover,  equally  famed  for 
his  courage,  strength  of  body,  and  successful  pira- 
cies. It  was  commanded  by  a  brave  man  named 
Thomas  de  Longueville,  a  Frenchman  by  birth,  but 
by  practice  one  of  those  pirates  who  called  them- 
selves friends  to  the  sea,  and  enemies  to  all  those 
who  sailed  upon  that  element. 

He  attacked  and  plundered  vessels  of  all  na- 
tions, like  one  of  the  ancient  Norse N  sea-kings,  as, 
they  were  termed,  whose  dominion  was  upon  the 
mountain  waves.  The  master  added,  that  no  ves- 
sel could  escape  the  rover  by  flight,  so  speedy  was 
the  craft  he  commanded;  and  that  no  crew,  how- 
ever hardy,  could  hope  to  resist  him,  when,  as  was 
his  usual  mode  of  combat,  he  threw  himself  on 
board  a  ship  at  the  head  of  his  followers. 

Wallace  smiled  sternly,  while  the  master  of  the 
ship,  with  alarm  in  his  countenance  and  tears  in 
his  eyes,  described  to  him  the  certainty  of  their 
being  captured  by  the  Red  Rover,  a  name  given  to 
Longueville  because  he  usually  displayed  the  blood- 
red  flag  which  he  had  now  hoisted. 

"I  will  clear  the  narrow  seas  of  this  rover," 
said  Wallace. 

Then  calling  together  some  ten  or  twelve  of  his 
own  followers— Boy d,  Kerlie,  Seatoii,  and  others— to 
whom  the  dust  of  the  most  desperate  battle  was 
t>ro3itlx  of  life*  lio  commanded,  "tttem  to  arnx 


FIFTH     READER.  2O7 

themselves  and  lie  flat  upon  the  deck,  so  as  to  be 
out  of  sight.  He  ordered  the  mariners  below,  ex- 
cepting such  as  were  absolutely  necessary  to  man- 
age the  vessel ;  and  he  gave  the  Piaster  instructions, 
upon  pain  of  death,  to  steer  so  that,  while  the  vessel 
had  the  appearance  of  attempting  to  fly,  it  would 
in  fact  permit  the  Bed  Rover  to  come  up  with 
them  and  do  his  worst. 

Wallace  himself  then  lay  down  on  the  deck,  that 
nothing  might  be  seen  which  would  intimate  any 
purpose  of  resistance.  In  a  quarter  of  an  hour  De 
Longueville's  vessel  ran  aboard  that  of  the  cham- 
pion, and  the  Red  Rover,  casting  out  grappling-irons 
to  make  sure  of  his  prize,  jumped  on  the  deck  in 
complete  armor,  followed  by  his  men,  who  gave 
a  terrible  shout,  as  if  victory  had  already  been  se- 
cured by  them. 

But  the  armed  Scots  started  up  at  once,  and  the 
Rover  found  himself  unexpectedly  engaged  with 
men  accustomed  to  consider  victory  as  secure  when 
they  were  only  opposed  as  one  to  two  or  three. 
Wallace  himself  rushed  on  the  pirate  captain,  and  a 
dreadful  strife  began  between  them,  with  such  fury 
that  the  others  suspended  their  own  battle  to  look 
on,  and  seemed  by  common  consent  to  refer  the 
issue  of  the  strife  to  the  result  of  the  combat  be- 
tween the  two  chiefs. 

The  pirate  fought  as  well  as  man  could  do ;  but 
Wallace's  strength  was  beyond  that  of  ordinary  mor- 
tals. He  dashed  the  sword  from  the  Rover's  hand, 
and  placed  him  in  such  peril  that,  to  avoid  being 
cut  down,  he  was  fain  to  close  with  the  Scottish 
champion,  in  hopes  of  overpowering  him  in  the 
struggle.  In  this  also  ae  was  foiled. 


208  FIFTH    READER. 

They  fell  on  the  deck  locked  in  each  other's  arms ; 
but  the  Frenchman  fell  undermost,  and  Wallace,  fix- 
ing his  grasp  upon  his  gorget,N  compressed  it  so 
closely,  notwithstanding  it  was  made  of  the  finest 
steel,  that  the  blood  gushed  from  his  eyes,  nose,  and 
mouth,  and  he  was  only  able  to  ask  for  quarter 
by  signs. 

His  men  threw  down  their  weapons,  and  begged 
for  mercy,  when  they  saw  their  leader  thus  severely 
handled.  The  victor  granted  them  all  their  lives, 
but  took  possession  of  their  vessel  and  detained  them 
prisoners. 

When  he  came  in  sight  of  the  French  harbor, 
Wallace  alarmed  the  place  by  displaying  the  Rover's 
colors,  as  if  De  Longueville  were  coming  to  pillage 
the  town.  The  bells  were  rung,  horns  were  blown, 
and  the  citizens  were  hurrying  to  arms,  when  the 
scene  changed.  The  Scottish  Lion  on  his  shield  of 
gold  was  raised  above  the  piratical  flag,  which  an- 
nounced that  the  champion  of  Scotland  was  ap- 
proaching, like  a  falcon  with  his  prey  in  his  clutch. 

He  landed  with  his  prisoner,  and  carried  him  to 
the  court  of  France,  where,  at  Wallace's  request,  the 
robberies  which  the  pirate  had  committed  were  for- 
given, and  the  king  even  conferred  the  honor  of 
knighthood  on  Sir  Thomas  de  Longueville,  and 
offered  to  take  him  into  his  service.  But  the  Rover 
had  contracted  such  a  friendship  for  his  generous 
victor,  that  he  insisted  on  uniting  his  fortunes  with 
those  of  Wallace,  and  fought  by  his  side  in  many  a 
bloody  battle,  where  the  prowess  of  Sir  Thomas  de 
Longueville  was  remarked  as  inferior  to  that  of 
none,  save  of  his  heroic  conqueror, 

SIR  WALTER  SCOTT.. 


They   fell    on    the    deck   locked    in    each,   other's   arms.' 
(See   page    SOS.) 


FIFTH    READER.  2O9 


Biography.  — Sir  Walter  Scott  was  born  in  Edinburgh,  Scotland, 
in  1771,  and  died  at  Abbotsford  in  1832. 

His  first  publication,  the  ballads  "  Lenore  "  and  "The  Wild 
Huntsman,"  appeared  in  1796. 

We  have  no  need  to  mention  all  his  works  by  name,— "  The 
Waverly  Novels,"  "The  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel,"  "Marmion," 
and  "The  Lady  of  the  Lake,"  are  among  those  most  widely  read. 

Notes.  — Sir  William  Wallace,  the  champion  of  Scottish  liberty, 
was  executed,  by  order  of  Edward  I.,  in  London  in  1305. 

The  Norse  sea-kings  were  famous  navigators  from  the  Nor- 
wegian Peninsula. 

Gdr'get,    a  piece  of  armor  for  defending  the  throat. 


.£tf._«CURFEW    MUST    NOT     RING    TO-NIGHT." 

sSx'ton,  an   under  officer   of  a      tur'rets,  topmost  parts  of  a  build- 
church. 


,  walking. 
vow,  a  solemn  promise. 
sus  pSnd'ed, 


,  stroke  of  a  bell  rung  at  a 
funeral ;  death  signal. 
il  lumV,  make  light. 


Slowly  England's  sun  was  setting  o'er  the  hill-tops  far  away, 
Filling  all  the  land  with  beauty  at  the  close  of  one  sad  day ; 
And  the  last  rays  kissed  the  forehead  of  a  man  and  maiden  fair, — 
He  with  footsteps  slow  and  weary,  she  with  sunny,  floating  hair : 
He  with  bowed  head,  sad  and  thoughtful,  she  with  lips  all  cold 

and  white, 
Struggling  to  keep  back  the  murmur,  —  "  Curfew N   must  not  ring 

to-night." 

"Sexton,"  Bessie's  white  lips  faltered,  pointing  to  the  prison  old, 
With   its   turrets    tall   and   gloomy,  with   its   walls    dark,    damp, 

and  cold, 

"I've  a  lover  in  that  prison,  doomed  this  very  night  to  die, 
At  the  ringing  of  the  curfew  — and  no  earthly  help  is  nigh: 
Cromwell  N  will  not  come  till  sunset,"  and  her  lips  grew  strangely 

white 
As    she    breathed    the    husky  whisper,-- "Curfew    must    not    ring 

to-night." 


21O  FIFTH    READER. 

"Bessie,"  calmly  spoke  the  sexton,  every  word  pierced  her  young 

heart 

Like  the  piercing  of  an  arrow,  like  a  deadly,  poisoned  dart, 
"Long,  long    years    I've    rung    the    curfew    from    that    gloomy, 

shadowed  tower; 

Every  evening,  just  at  sunset,  it  has  told  the  twilight  hour; 
I  have  done  my  duty  ever,  tried  to  do  it  just  and  right, 
Now  I'm  old  I  still  must  do  it,— Curfew  must  be  rung  to-night." 
» 

Wild    her    eyes    and    pale    her    features,    stern    and    white    her 

thoughtful   brow, 

And  within  her  secret  bosom  Bessie  made  a  solemn  vow. 
She  had  listened  while  the  judges  read  without  a  tear  or  sigh, 
"At  the  ringing  of  the  curfew,  BasilN  Underwood  must  die." 
And  her  breath  came    fast   and   faster,  and  her  eyes  grew  large 

and  bright— 

In  an  undertone  she  murmured,  — "  Curfew  must  not  ring  to- 
night." 

She  with  quick  steps  bounded  forward,  sprung  within  the  old 
church  door, 

Left  the  old  man  threading  slowly  paths  so  oft  he'd  trod  be- 
fore; 

Not  one  moment  paused  the  maiden,  but  with  eye  and  cheek 
aglow, 

Mounted  up  the  gloomy  'tower,  where  the  bell  swung  to  and 
fro; 

And  she  climbed  the  dusty  ladder  on  which  fell  no  ray  of  light, 

Op  and  up— her  white  lips  saying,  — "  Curfew  must  not  ring 
to-night." 


She   has   reached  the   topmost   ladder,  o'er   her  hangs   the   great, 

dark  bell; 

Awful  is  the  gloom  beneath  her,  like  a  pathway  down  to  hell. 
Lo,   the  ponderous  rongue  is  swinging,   'tis  the  hour  of   curfew 

now, 
And  the   sight  has   chilled  her  bosom,  stopped  her  breath,    and 

paled  her  brow, 


FIFTH    READER.  211 

Shall   she   let   it  ring?     No,  never!     Flash   her  eyes   with  sudden 

light, 

And  she  springs  and  grasps   it   firmly,  —  "  Curfew  shall  not  ring 
to-night." 

Out  she  swung,  far  out,  the  city  seemed  a  speck  of  light  below, 
'Twixt  heaven  and  earth  her  form  suspended,  as  the  bell  swung 

to  and  fro,— 

And  the  sexton  at  the  bell-rope,  old  and  deaf,  heard  not  the  bell, 
But  he   thought   it   still  was   ringing  fair   young   Basil's    funeral 

knell. 
Still  the  maiden  clung  most  firmly,  and  with  trembling  lips  and 

white, 
Said  to  hush  her  heart's  wild  beating,— ' '  Curfew  shall   not  ring 

to-night." 


It  was  o'er,    the  bell   ceased  swaying,    and  the   maiden   stepped 

once  more 

Firmly  on  the  dark  old  ladder,  where  for  hundred  years  before, 
Human  foot  had  not  been  planted.     The  brave  deed  that  she  had 

done 

Should  be  told  long  ages  after,  as  the  rays  of  setting  sun 
Should  illume   the   sky  with   beauty;    aged  sires   with   heads  of 

white, 
Long  should   tell    the   little   children,  Curfew   did  not  ring  that 

night. 

O'er  the  distant  hills  came   Cromwell;   Bessie  sees   him,  and  her 

brow, 

Full  of  hope  and  full  of  gladness,  has  no  anxious  traces  now. 
At  his  feet  she  tells   her  story,  shows  her   hands  all  bruised  and 

torn; 
And  her   face   so   sweet   and  pleading,  yet  with  sorrow  pale  and 

worn, 

Touched  his  heart  with  sudden  pity,  lit  his  eye  with  inisty  light : 
"Go,    your  lover  lives,"  said  Cromwell:  "Curfew  shall  not  ring 

tO-night  I" 

ROSA  HART  WICK  THORPE, 


212  FIFTH    READER. 


Notes.  —  Cur'  few  is  derived  from  the  French,  and  means  ' '  cover 
fire."  The  ringing  of  the  curfew  in  England  after  the  Norman 
Conquest,  was  to  warn  people  to  cover  up  their  fires  and  go  to 
bed.  The  custom  of  ringing  the  bell  at  eight  or  nine  o'clock  is 
still  continued  in  some  parts  of  England,  and  also  in  some  cities 
in  the  United  States.  The  original  significance  of  the  ringing 
has  of  course  been  lost. 

Oliver  Cromwell  was  born  in  1599,  and  became  the  real  leader 
of  the  party  which  rose  in  rebellion  against  Charles  I.  in  1646. 
In  1653,  he  was  invested  with  the  title  of  "Lord  Protector,"  and 
ruled  England  in  that  capacity  until  his  death  in  1658. 

Bas/il  is  a  name  derived  from  the  Greek,  and  means  kingly. 

Elocution.  —  With  what  tone  of  voice  should  the  first  stanza  be 
read?  Point  out  the  changes  in  tone  that  should  occur  through- 
out the  poem. 

Mark  the  inflections  in  the  last  line  of  the  first  stanza,  and  in 
the  last  line  of  the  last  stanza. 

Language.  — Arrange  the  words  in  the  last  stanza  in  the  order 
of  prose.  Change  such  words  and  forms  of  expression  as  do  not 
properly  belong  to  prose. 


.—  NICHOLAS  NICKLEBY  LEAVING  THE 
YORKSHIRE  SCHOOL. 


II  ba'tion,  drink. 

flag  el  la'  tion,  beating  or  whip- 


ping. 


spleen,  anger. 

hu'  mor,  temper. 

pr6s'  trat^,  stretched  out. 

pro  16ng^d',  continued.  siip'pl^,  pliant ;  yielding. 

fu/  dji  tlv^,  one  who  has  fled.  a' mi  a  bl^,  pleasing ;  charming. 

As  time  passed  away  the  poor  creature,  Smike, 
paid  bitterly  for  the  friendship  of  Nicholas  Nick- 
leby ;  all  the  spleen  and  ill  humor  that  could  not 
be  vented  on  Nicholas  were  bestowed  on  him. 
Stripes  and  blows,  stripes  and  blows,  stripes  and 
blows,  morning,  noon,  and  night,  were  his  penalty 
for  being  compassionated  by  the  daring  new  mas- 
ter. Squeers  was  jealous  of  the  influence  which  the 
sai4  new  master  soon  acquired  in  the  school,  and 


FIFTH    READER.  213 

hated  him  for  it;  Mrs.  Squeers  had  hated  him.  from 
the  first ;  and  poor  Smike  paid  neavily  for  all. 

One  night  he  was  poring  hard  over  a  "book,  vainly 
endeavoring  to  master  some  task  which  a  child  of 
nine  years  could  have  conquered  with  ease,  "but 
which  to  the  brain  of  the  crushed  "boy  of  nineteen 
was  a  hopeless  mystery. 

Nicholas  laid  his  hand  upon  his  shoulder. 

"I  can't  do  it." 

"Do  not  try.  You  will  do  "better,  poor  fellow, 
when  I  am  gone." 

"  Gone  ?     Are  you  going  ?  " 

"I  can  not  say.  I  was  speaking  more  to  my  own 
thoughts  than  to  you.  I  shall  be  driven  to  that  at 
last !  The  world  is  "before  me,  after  all." 

"Is  the  world  as  "bad  and  dismal  as  this  place?" 

"  Heaven  forbid.  Its  hardest,  coarsest  toil  is  hap- 
piness to  this." 

"Should  I  ever  meet  you  there?" 

"Yes,"— willing  to  soothe  him. 

"]STo!  no!  Should  I  — should  I—  Say  I  should 
be  sure  to  find  you." 

"You  would,  and  I  would  help  and  aid  you,  and 
not  bring  fresh  sorrow  upon  you,  as  I  have  done 
here." 

The  boy  caught  both  his  hands,  and  uttered  a  few 
broken  sounds  which  "were  unintelligible.  Squeers 
entered  at  the  moment,  and  he  shrunk  back  into 
his  old  corner. 

Two  days  later,  the  cold  feeble  dawn  of  a  Jan- 
uary morning  was  stealing  in  at  the  windows  of 
the  common  sleeping-room,  when  Nicholas,  raising 
himself  on  his  arm,  looked  among  the  prostrate 
forms  in  search  of  one. 


214  FIFTH    READER. 

"Now,  then,"  cried  Squeers,  from  the  bottom  oi 
the  stairs,  "are  you  going  to  sleep  all  day  up 
there?" 

"We  shall  be  down  directly,  sir." 

"  Down  directly !  Ah !  you  had  better  be  down 
directly,  or  I'll  be  down  upon  some  of  you  in  less 
time  than  directly.  Where's  that  Smike?" 

Nicholas  looked  round  again. 

"He  is  not  here,  sir." 

"Don't  tell  me  a  lie.     He  is." 

"He  is  not.     Don't  tell  me  one." 

Squeers  bounced  into  the  dormitory,  and  swing- 
ing his  cane  in  the  air  ready  for  a  blow,  darted  into 
the  corner  where  Smike  usually  lay  at  night.  The 
cane  descended  harmlessly.  There  was  nobody  there. 

"What  does  this  mean?  Where  have  you  hid 
him?" 

"I  have  seen  nothing  of  him  since  last  night." 

"Come,  you  won't  save  him  this  way.  Where  is 
he?" 

"At  the  bottom  of  the  nearest  pond,  for  any 
thing  I  know." 

In  a  fright,  Squeers  inquired  of  the  boys  whether 
any  one  of  them  knew  any  thing  of  their  missing 
school-mate. 

There  was  a  general  hum  of  denial,  in  the  midst 
of  which  one  shrill  voice  was  heard  to  say— as  in- 
deed every  body  thought— 

"Please,  sir,  I  think  Smike's  run  away,  sir." 

"Ha!  who  said  that?" 

Squeers  made  a  plunge  into  the  crowd,  and 
caught  a  very  little  boy,  the  perplexed  expression 
of  whose  countenance  as  he  was  brought  forward, 
seemed  to  intimate  that  he  was  uncertain  whether 


FIFTH    READER.  216 

he  was  going  to  be  punished  or  rewarded  for  his 
suggestion.  He  was  not  long  in  doubt. 

"You  think  he  has  run  away,  do  you,  sir?" 

"Yes,  please,  sir." 

"  And  what  reason  have  you  to  suppose  that  any 
boy  would  want  to  run  away  from,  this  establish- 
ment? Eh?" 

The  child  raised  a  dismal  cry  by  way  of  answer, 
and  Squeers  beat  him  until  he  rolled  out  of  his 
hands.  He  mercifully  allowed  him  to  roll  away. 

"  There  !  Now  if  any  other  boy  thinks  Smike  has 
run  away,  I  shall  be  glad  to  have  a  talk  with  him." 

Profound  silence. 

"Well,  ISTickleby,  you  think  he  has  run  away,  I 
suppose  ?  " 

"I  think  it  extremely  likely." 

"Maybe  you  know  he  has  run  away?" 

"I  know  nothing  about  it." 

"He  didn't  tell  you  he  was  going,  I  suppose?" 

"He  did  not.  I  am  very  glad  he  did  not,  for  it 
would  then  have  been  my  duty  to  tell  you." 

"Which  no  doubt  you  would  have  been  sorry 
to  do?" 

"I  should,  indeed." 

Mrs.  Squeers  had  listened  to  this  conversation 
from  the  bottom  of  the  stairs;  but  now,  losing  all 
patience,  she  hastily  made  her  way  to  the  scene  of 
action. 

"  What's  all  this  here  to-do  ?  What  on  earth  are 
you  talking  to  him  for,  Squeery?  The  cow-house 
and  stables  are  locked  up,  so  Smike  can't  be  there ; 
and  he's  not  down  stairs  anywhere,  for  the  girl 
has  looked.  He  must  have  gone  YorkN  way,  and  by 
a  public  road.  He  must  beg  his  way,  and  he  could 


216  FIFTH    READER. 

do  that  nowheres  but  on  the  public  road.  Now, 
if  you  takes  the  chaise  and  goes  one  road,  and  I 
borrows  Swallow's  chaise  and  goes  t'other,  one  or 
other  of  us  is  moral  sure  to  lay  hold  of  him." 

The  lady's  plan  was  put  in  execution  without 
delay,  Nicholas  remaining  behind  in  a  tumult  of 
feeling.  Death,  from  want  and  exposure,  was  the 
best  that  could  be  expected  from  the  prolonged 
wandering  of  so  helpless  a  creature  through  a  coun- 
try of  which  he  was  ignorant.  There  was  little, 
perhaps,  to  choose  between  this  and  a  return  to  the 
tender  mercies  of  the  school.  Nicholas  lingered  on, 
in  restless  anxiety,  picturing  a  thousand  possibili- 
ties, until  the  evening  of  the  next  day,  when 
Squeers  returned  alone. 

"  No  news  of  the  scamp  ! " 

Another  day  came,  and  Nicholas  was  scarcely 
awake  when  he  heard  the  wheels  of  a  chaise  ap- 
proaching the  house.  It  stopped,  and  the  voice  of 
Mrs.  Squeers  was  heard,  ordering  a  glass  of  spirits 
for  somebody,  which  was  in  itself  a  sufficient  sign 
that  something  extraordinary  had  happened.  Nich- 
olas hardly  dared  look  out  of  the  window,  but  he 
did  so,  and  the  first  object  that  met  his  eyes  was 
the  wretched  Smike,  bedabbled  with  mud  and  rain, 
haggard  and  worn  and  wild. 

"Lift  him  out,"  said  Squeers.  "Bring  him  in, 
bring  him  in." 

"Take  care,"  cried  Mrs.  Squeers.  "We  tied  his 
legs  under  the  apron,  and  made  'em  fast  to  the 
chaise,  to  prevent  him  giving  us  the  slip  again." 

With  hands  trembling  with  delight,  Squeers 
loosened  the  cord ;  and  Smike,  more  dead  than 
alive,  was  brought  in  and  locked  up  in  a  cellar, 


FIFTH    READER.  217 

until   such   a   time   as    Squeers   should   deem  it  ex- 
pedient to  operate  upon  him. 

The  news  that  the  fugitive  had  been  caught  and 
brought  back  ran  like  wildfire  through  the  hungry 
community,  and  expectation  was  on  tiptoe  all  the 
morning.  On  tiptoe  it  remained  all  the  afternoon, 
when  Squeers,  having  refreshed  himself  with  his 
dinner  and  an  extra  libation  or  so,  made  his  ap- 
pearance, accompanied  by  his  amiable  partner,  with 
a  fearful  instrument  of  flagellation,  strong,  supple, 
wax-ended,  and  new. 

"Is  every  boy  here?" 

Every  boy  was  there,  but  every  boy  was  afraid 
to  speak ;  so  Squeers  glared  along  the  lines  to  as- 
sure himself. 

"Each  boy  keep  his  place.  Nickleby!  you  go  to 
your  desk,  sir." 

There  was  a  curious  expression  in  the  usher'sN 
face;  but  he  took  his  seat,  without  opening  his 
lips  in  reply.  Squeers  left  the  room,  and  shortly 
afterward  returned,  dragging  Smike  by  the  collar— 
or  rather  by  that  fragment  of  his  jacket  which 
was  nearest  the  place  where  his  collar  ought  to 
have  been. 

11  Now  what  have  you  got  to  say  for  yourself? 
Stand  a  little  out  of  the  way,  Mrs.  Squeers,  my 
dear;  I've  hardly  got  room  enough." 

"Spare  me,  sir!" 

"O,  that's  all  you've  got  to  say,  is  it?  Yes,  I'll 
flog  you  within  an  inch  of  your  life,  and  spare 
you  that." 

One  cruel  blow  had  fallen  on  him,  when  Nicho- 
las Nickleby  cried,  "  Stop  ! " 

"Who  cried  'Stop!'" 


FIFTH    READER. 


"I  did.     This  must  not  go  on." 

"  Must  not  go  on  !  " 

"No  I  Must  not!  Shall  not!  I  will  prevent  it! 
You  have  disregarded  all  my  quiet  interference  in 
this  miserable  lad's  "behalf;  you  have  returned  no 
answer  to  the  letter  in  which  I  begged  forgiveness 
for  him,  and  offered  to  be  responsible  that  he  would 
remain  quietly  here.  Don't  blame  me  for  this  pub- 
lic interference.  You  have  brought  it  upon  your- 
self, not  I." 

"  Sit  down,  beggar  !  " 

"  Wretch,  touch  him  again  at  your  peril  !  I  will 
not  stand  by  and  see  it  done.  My  blood  is  up,  and 
I  have  the  strength  of  ten  such  men  as  you.  By 
Heaven  !  I  will  not  spare  you,  if  you  drive  me  on  ! 
I  have  a  series  of  personal  insults  to  avenge,  and 
my  indignation  is  aggravated  by  the  cruelties  prac- 
ticed in  this  cruel  den.  Have  a  care,  or  the  conse- 
quences will  fall  heavily  upon  your  head  !  " 

Squeers,  in  a  violent  outbreak,  spat  at  him,  and 
struck  him  a  blow  across  the  face.  Nicholas  in- 
stantly sprung  upon  him,  wrested  his  weapon  from 
his  hand,  and,  pinning  him  by  the  throat,  beat  the 
ruffian  till  he  roared  for  mercy. 

He  then  flung  him  away  with  all  the  force  he 
could  muster,  and  the  violence  of  his  fall  precipi- 
tated Mrs.  Squeers  over  an  adjacent  form  ;  Squeers, 
striking  his  head  against  the  same  form  in  his  de- 
scent, lay  at  his  full  length  on  the  ground,  stunned 
and  motionless. 

Having  brought  affairs  to  this  happy  termina- 
tion, and  having  ascertained  to  his  satisfaction 
that  Squeers  was  only  stunned,  and  not  dead—  upon 
which  point  he  had  had  some  unpleasant  doubts 


FIFTH    READER.  219 

at  first,— Nicholas  packed  up  a  few  clothes  in  a 
small  valise,  and  finding  that  nobody  offered  to 
oppose  his  progress,  marched  boldly  out  by  the 
front  door,  and  struck  into  the  road.  Then  such 
a  cheer  arose  as  the  walls  of  Dotheboys  Hall  had 
never  echoed  before,  and  would  never  respond  to 
again.  When  the  sound  had  died  away,  the  school 
was  empty ;  and  of  the  crowd  of  boys  not  one  re- 
mained. 

CHARLES  DICKENS. 

Biography.  —  Charles  Dickens  was  born  at  Portsmouth,  Eng- 
land, in  1812,  and  died  in  1870. 

Dickens  began  life  as  a  newspaper  reporter,  and  was  soon  dis- 
tinguished for  uncommon  ability.  His  "Sketches  by  Boz"  ap- 
peared in  the  "Morning  Chronicle"  in  1836,  and  "Pickwick 
Papers"  was  written  in  the  following  year.  The  young  author's 
popularity  was  now  assured ;  he  had  taken  a  path  altogether 
new  for  literary  work,  and  one  which  was  to  make  him  both 
friends  and  enemies. 

Among  his  principal  works  may  be  mentioned  the  following : 
"A  Christmas  Carol,"  "David  Copperfleld, "  "Bleak  House," 
"Nicholas  Nickleby,"  and  "Oliver  Twist." 

Notes. — York,  is  the  capital  of  Yorkshire,  the  largest  county  in 
England.  "Nicholas  Nickleby"  was  written  by  Dickens  to  show 
the  character  of  Yorkshire  cheap  schools. 

Usher  is  a  term  used  to  designate  an  assistant  teacher. 


£8.—  MARK     TWAIN'S    WATCH. 


in  fal'li  bl^,  certain;  not  capable 

of  making  a  mistake. 
an'guish 

tress. 
£n  gi  ne^r',  one  who    runs   an 

engine. 
im  plor^d',  earnestly  asked. 


for^  r&n'ner,  a  sign  slwwing 
something  to  follow. 

dis-erS'tion  (kreWun),  judg- 
ment. 

ver'di-et,  opinion. 

a  nat'  o  my,  parts. 

bod'ingg,  tfioughts  of  the  future. 


My    beautiful,    new     watch     had     run     eighteen 
months   without    losing    or    gaining,    and    without 


22O  FIFTH    READER. 

breaking  any  part  of  its  machinery,  or  stopping. 
I  had  come  to  believe  it  infallible  in  its  judg- 
ments about  the  time  of  day,  and  to  consider  its 
constitution  and  anatomy  imperishable.  But  at 
last,  one  night,  I  let  it  run  down.  I  grieved  about 
this  oversight  as  if  it  were  a  recognized  messenger 
and  forerunner  of  calamity.  But  by  and  by  I 
cheered  up,  set  the  watch  by  guess,  and  commanded 
my  bodings  and  superstitions  to  depart. 

Next  day  I  stepped  into  the  chief  jeweler's  to 
set  it  by  the  exact  time,  and  the  head  of  the  estab- 
lishment took  it  out  of  my  hand  and  proceeded  to 
set  it  for  me.  Then  he  said,  "She  is  four  minutes 
slow— regulator  wants  pushing  up."  I  tried  to  stop 
him— tried  to  make  him  understand  that  the  watch 
kept  perfect  time.  But  no;  all  this  human  cabbage 
could  see  was  that  the  watch  was  four  minutes 
slow,  and  the  regulator  must  be  pushed  up  a  little; 
and  so,  while  I  danced  around  him  in  anguish,  and 
implored  him  to  let  the  watch  alone,  he  calmly 
and  cruelly  did  the  shameful  deed. 

My  watch  began  to  gain.  It  gained  faster  and 
faster  day  by  day.  Within  the  week  it  sickened  to  a 
raging  fever,  and  its  pulse  went  up  to  one  hundred 
and  fifty  in  the  shade.  At  the  end  of  two  months 
it  had  left  all  the  other  time-pieces  of  the  town  far 
in  the  rear,  and  was  a  fraction  of  thirteen  days 
ahead  of  the  almanac.  It  was  away  into  November 
enjoying  the  snow,  while  the  October  leaves  were 
still  turning.  It  hurried  up  house  rent,  bills  pay- 
able, and  such  things,  in  such  a  ruinous  way  that 
I  could  not  abide  it. 

I  took  it  to  the  watchmaker  to  be  regulated. 
He  asked  rne  if  1  had  ever  had  it  repaired.  I  said 


FIFTH    READER.  221 

no,  it  had  never  needed  any  repairing.  He  looked 
a  look  of  vicious  happiness  and  eagerly  pried  the 
watch  open,  and  then  put  a  small  dice-box  into 
his  eye,  and  peered  into  its  machinery.  He  said  it 
wanted  cleaning  and  oiling,  "besides  regulating— 
come  in  a  week. 

After  "being  cleaned,  and  oiled,  and  regulated, 
my  watch  slowed  down  to  that  degree  that  it  ticked 
like  a  tolling  hell.  I  began  to  be  left  by  trains,  I 
failed  all  appointments,  I  got  to  missing  my  dinner; 
my  watch  strung  out  three  days  of  grace  to  four 
and  let  me  go  to  protest ;  I  gradually  drifted  back 
into  yesterday,  then  day  before,  then  into  last  week, 
and  by  and  by  the  comprehension  came  upon  me 
that,  solitary  and  alone,  I  was  lingering  along  in 
week  before  last,  and  the  world  was  out  of  sight. 
I  seemed  to  detect  in  myself  a  sort  of  sneaking 
fellow-feeling  for  the  mummy  in  the  museum,  and 
a  desire  to  exchange  news  with  him. 

I  w^ent  to  a  watchmaker  again.  He  took  the 
watch  all  to  pieces  while  I  waited,  and  then  said 
the  barrel  was  "swelled."  He  said  he  could  reduce  it 
in  three  days.  After  this  the  watch  averaged N  well, 
but  nothing  more.  For  half  a  day  it  would  go  like 
the  very  mischief,  and  keep  up  such  a  barking  and 
wheezing  and  whooping  and  sneezing  and  snorting, 
that  I  could  not  hear  myself  think  for  the  dis- 
turbance; and  as  long  as  it  held  out  there  was  not  a 
watch  in  the  land  that  stood  any  chance  against  it. 

But  the  rest  of  the  day  it  would  keep  on  slow- 
ing down  and  fooling  along  until  all  the  clocks  it 
had  left  behind  caught  up  again.  So  at  last,  at  the 
end  of  twenty-four  hours,  it  would  trot  up  to  the 
Judges'  stand  all  right  and  just  in  time.  It  would 


222  FIFTH     READER. 

show  a  fair  and  square  average,  and  no  man  coulcj 
say  it  had  done  more  or  less  than  its  duty.  But 
a  correct  average  is  only  a  mild  virtue  in  a  watch, 
and  I  took  this  instrument  to  another  watch- 
maker. 

He  said  the  king-bolt  was  broken.  I  said  I  was 
glad  it  was  nothing  more  serious.  To  tell  the  plain 
truth,  I  had  no  idea  what  the  king-bolt  was,  but  I 
did  not  choose  to  appear  ignorant  to  a  stranger. 
He  repaired  the  king-bolt,  but  what  the  watch 
gained  in  one  way  it  lost  in  another.  It  would  run 
awhile  and  then  stop  awhile,  and  then  run  awhile 
again,  and  so  on,  using  its  own  discretion  about  the 
intervals.  And  every  time  it  went  off  it  kicked 
back  like  a  musket. 

I  padded  my  breast  for  a  few  days,  but  finally 
took  the  watch  to  another  watchmaker.  He  picked 
it  all  to  pieces,  and  turned  the  ruin  over  and  over 
under  his  glass ;  and  then  he  said  there  appeared  to 
be  something  the  matter  with  the  hair-trigger.  He 
fixed  it  and  gave  it  a  fresh  start.  It  did  well  now, 
except  that  always  at  ten  minutes  to  ten  the  hands 
would  shut  together  like  a  pair  of  scissors,  and  from 
that  time  forth  they  would  travel  together. 

The  oldest  man  in  the  world  could  not  make 
out  the  time  of  day  by  such  a  watch,  and  so  I  went 
again  to  have  the  thing  repaired.  This  person  said 
that  the  crystal  had  got  bent,  and  that  the  main- 
spring was  not  straight.  He  also  remarked  that  part 
of  the  works  needed  half-soling.N  He  made  these 
things  all  right,  and  then  my  time-piece  performed 
correctly,  save  that  now  and  then  she  would  reel 
off  the  next  twenty-four  hours  in  six  or  seven 
minutes,  and  then  stop  with  a  bang. 


FIFTH    READER.  223 

I  went  with,  a  heavy  heart  to  one  more  watch- 
maker, and  looked  on  while  he  took  her  to  pieces. 
Then  I  prepared  to  cross-question  him  rigidly,  for 
this  thing  was  getting  serious.  The  watch  had  cost 
two  hundred  dollars  originally,  and  I  seemed  to 
have  paid  out  two  or  three  thousand  for  repairs. 
While  I  waited  and  looked  on  I  presently  recognized 
in  this  watchmaker  an  old  acquaintance— a  steam- 
boat engineer  of  other  days,  and  not  a  good  engi- 
neer, either.  He  examined  all  the  parts  carefully, 
just  as  the  other  watchmakers  had  done,  and  then 
delivered  his  verdict  with  the  same  confidence  of 
manner. 

He  said  — "She  makes  too  much  steam— you  want 
to  hang  the  monkey-wrench N  on  the  safety-valve !" N 

I  floored  him  on  the  spot. 

S.  L.  CLEMENS. 

Biography.  —  Samuel  Langborne  Clemens  (Mark  Twain)  was 
born  in  Missouri  in  1835. 

Clemens  is  one  of  our  most  popular  humorists.  During  his 
"steam-boating"  experience  upon  the  Mississippi  River,  when 
the  lead  was  cast,  he  often  heard  the  sailors  call  out  "By  the 
mark,  twain ! "  meaning  that  there  were  two  fathoms  of  water 
under  the  boat.  The  words  "Mark  Twain"  caught  the  fancy  of 
Clemens,  and  when  he  began  to  write  he  determined  to  use  them 
as  the  name  by  which  he  should  be  known  as  an  author. 

His  principal  works  are:  "Innocents  Abroad,"  "Houghing  It," 
"Gilded  Age,"  and  "A  Tramp  Abroad." 

Notes.  —  Averaged  well  means  that  between  going  too  fast  for 
a  part  of  the  day  and  too  slow  for  the  rest  of  it,  the  watch  was 
about  right  at  the  end  of  every  twenty-four  hours. 

Half-soling  means  to  repair  shoes  by  putting  on  new  half- 
soles.  The  watchmaker  who  used  the  expression  must  have 
once  been  a  shoemaker,  and  his  meaning  was  that  the  watch 
had  run  so  much  that  it  was  worn  out. 

A  monkey -tvrench  is  a  wrench  with  a  movable  jaw. 

A  safety-valve  is  a  valve  fitted  to  the  boiler  of  a  steam-engine, 
which  opens  and  lets  off  steam  when  the  pressure  within  the 
boiler  becomes  so  great  as  to  create  danger  of  explosion. 


224  FIFTH     READER. 


£9.  —  OUSTER'S    LAST    CHARGE. 


,  cared. 

,  surrounded. 


,  punishment  in  re- 


turn for  injuries. 


,  wandering  tribes. 
as  suag'  ing,  easing;  mil 


,  time  long  past. 
shun'ning,  avoiding. 
quaV'ing  (kwal),  shrinking;  giv- 
ing way. 

blSnch,  draw  back. 
•elar'i  on,  a  kind  of  trumpet. 

Dead !     Is  it  possible  ?     He,  the  bold  rider, 

Ouster, N  our  hero,  the  first  in  the  fight, 
Charming  the  bullets  of  yore  to  fly  wider, 

Far  from  our  battle-king's  ringlets  of  light ! 
Dead,  our  young  chieftain,  and  dead,  all  forsaken  I 

No  one  to  tell  us  the  way  of  his  fall ! 
Slain  in  the  desert,  and  never  to  waken, 

Never,  not  even  to  victory's  call ! 

Proud  for  his  fame  that  last  day  that  he  met  them! 

All  the  night  long  he  had  been  on  their  track, 
Scorning  their  traps  and  the  men  that  had  set  them5 

Wild  for  a  charge  that  should  never  give  back. 
There  on  the  hill-top  he  halted  and  saw  them,— 

Lodges  all  loosened  and  ready  to  fly ; 
Hurrying  scouts  with  the  tidings  to  awe  them, 

Told  of  his  coming  before  he  was  nigh. 

All  the  wide  valley  was  full  of  their  forces, 

Gathered  to  cover  the  lodges'  retreat  !— 
Warriors  running  in  haste  to  their  horses, 

Thousands  of  enemies  close  to  his  feet ! 
Down  in  the  valleys  the  ages  had  hollowed, 

There  lay  the  Sitting  Bull's  camp  for  a  prey ! 
Numbers !      What    recked    he  ?     What   recked   those 
who  followed— 

Men  who  had  fought  ten  to  one  ere  that  day? 


FIFTH    READER. 


Out  swept  the  squadrons,  the  fated  three  hundred, 

Into  the  battle-line  steady  and  full  ; 
Then  down  the  hill-side  exultingly  thundered, 

Into  the  hordes  of  the  old  Sitting  Bull  I  N 
Wild  Ogalallah,N  Arapahoe,N  Cheyenne,N 

Wild     Horse's     braves,    and    the    rest    of    their 

crew, 
Shrunk  from  that  charge  like  a  herd  from  a  lion,— 

Then    closed    around,    the    grim    horde    of    wild 
Sioux  !N 

Bight  to  their  center  he  charged,  and  then  facing- 

Hark  to  those  yells  !   and  around  them,  O  see  ! 
Over  the  hill-tops  the  Indians  come  racing, 

Coming  as  fast  as  the  waves  of  the  seal 
Red  was  the  circle  of  fire  about  them  : 

No  hope  of  victory,  no  ray  of  light, 
Shot    through    that    terrible    black    cloud    without 
them, 

Brooding  in  death  over  Ouster's  last  fight. 

Then,  did  he  blench?     Did  he  die  like  a  craven, 

Begging  those  torturing  fiends  for  his  life? 
Was  there  a  soldier  who  carried  the  Seven  N 

Flinched  like  a  coward  or  fled  from  the  strife? 
No,  by  the  blood  of  our  Ouster,  no  quailing  ! 

There  in  the  midst  of  the  Indians  they  close, 
Hemmed  in  by  thousands,  but  ever  assailing, 

Fighting  like  tigers,  all  'bayed  N  amid  foes  ! 

Thicker  and  thicker  the  bullets  came  singing  ; 

Down  go  the  horses  and  riders  and  all  ; 
Swiftly  the  warriors  round  them  were  ringing, 

Circling  like  buzzards  awaiting  their  fall. 


226  FIFTH    READER. 

See  the  wild  steeds  of  the  mountain  and  prairie, 
Savage  eyes  gleaming  from  forests  of  mane ; 

Quivering  lances  with  pennons  so  airy; 
War-painted  warriors  charging  amain. 

Backward,  again  and  again,  they  were  driven, 

Shrinking  to  close  with  the  lost  little  band; 
Never  a  cap  that  had  worn  the  bright  Seven 

Bowed  till  its  wearer  was  dead  on  the  strand. 
Closer  and  closer  the  death  circle  growing, 

Even  the  leader's  voice,  clarion-clear, 
Bang  out  his  words  of  encouragement  glowing, 

"We  can  but  die  once,  boys,— we'll  sell  our  lives 
dear ! " 

Dearly  they  sold  them  like  Berserkers N  raging, 

Facing  the  death  that  encircled  them  round ; 
Death's  bitter  pangs  by  their  vengeance  assuaging, 

Marking  their  tracks  by  their  dead  on  the  ground. 
Comrades,  our  children  shall  yet  tell  their  story,— 

Custer's  last  charge  on  the  old  Sitting  Bull ; 
And  ages  shall  swear  that  the  cup  of  his  glory 

Needed  but  that  death  to  render  it  full. 

FREDERICK  WHITTAKER. 

Notes.  — Frederick  Whittaker  is  a  well -known  contributor  to 
periodical  literature.  He  has  written  a  "Life  of  Custer"  which 
has  "been  highly  praised. 

General  George  A.  Custer  and  all  his  men  were  killed  near  the 
Big  Horn  Elver,  in  Montana  Territory,  in  an  attack  upon  the 
Sioux  (Soo)  Indians.  The  sad  event  took  place  June  25,  1876. 

Ogalal'lah,  A  rap' a  hoe,  Ch^y  e'ni^'j  are  tne  names  of  different 
tribes  of  Indians,  all  under  the  command  of  Sitting  Bull,  a  noto- 
rious Indian  warrior  at  the  time  of  the  Custer  massacre. 

Seven  is  the  number  of  the  regiment,  the  "Seventh  U.  S. 
Cavalry." 

>Bat/e<Z  =  embayed,  surrounded  without  chance  of  escape. 

Berserkers  were  Norse  heroes  who  despised  armor,  and  claimed 
that  furious  courage  was  the  best  defense  in  battle. 


and  closer  the  death  circle  growing."     (See  page 


FIFTH    READER.  227 

5O.—  AN     INCIDENT     iN     THE     LIFE     OF 
SIR     WALTER     RALEIGH. 


PART     I. 


u'  ni  vers^,  world. 


al  le^d',  declared. 

tlt'tl^,  smallest  part. 

ar'dent,  intense. 

ex  ter'nal,  outside. 

re  lu-e'tan^,  unwillingness. 


mean  persons. 
jer'king,  close,  short  coats. 
hal'berd§,  weapons  consistiny  of 
wooden  poles  with  steel  points. 


Walter  Raleigh N  and  his  friends,  Blount  and 
Tracy,  were  floating  on  the  princely  bosom  of  the 
broad  Thames,  upon  which  the  sun  now  shone 
forth  with  all  its  splendor. 

"  There  are  two  things  scarce  matched  in  the 
universe,"  said  Walter  to  Blount,  — "  the  sun  in 
heaven  and  the  Thames  on  earth." 

"The  one  will  light  us  to  Greenwich  well 
enough,"  said  Blount,  "and  the  other  would  take 
us  there  a  little  faster,  if  it  were  ebb-tide." 

"And  this  is  all  thou  thinkest  — all  thou  carest— 
all  thou  deem'st  to  be  the  use  of  the  King  of  Ele- 
ments, and  the  King  of  Rivers,— to  guide  three  such 
poor  caitiffs  as  thyself,  and  me,  and  Tracy,  upon  an 
idle  journey  of  courtly  ceremony!" 

"It  is  no  errand  of  my  seeking,  faith,"  replied 
Blount,  "and  I  could  excuse  both  the  sun  and  the 
Thames  the  trouble  of  carrying  me  where  I  have 
no  great  mind  to  go,  and  where  I  expect  but  dog's 
wages  for  my  trouble;— and  by  my  honor,"  he  added, 
looking  out  from  the  head  of  the  boat,  "it  seems 
to  me  as  if  our  message  were  a  sort  of  labor  in 
vain;  for  see,  the  Queen's  barge  lies  at  the  stairs, 
as  if  Her  Majesty  were  about  to  take  to  the  water." 


22S  FIFTH     READER. 

It  was  even  so.  The  royal  barge,  manned  by 
the  Queen's  watermen,  richly  attired  in  the  regal 
liveries,  and  having  the  banner  of  England  dis- 
played, did  indeed  lie  at  the  great  stairs  which 
ascended  from  the  river,  and  along  with  it  two  or 
three  other  boats  for  transporting  such  part  of  her 
retinue  as  were  not  in  immediate  attendance  upon 
the  royal  person. 

The  yeomen  of  the  guard,N  the  tallest  and  hand- 
somest men  whom  England  could  produce,  guarded 
with  their  halberds  the  passage  from  the  palace 
gate  to  the  river-side,  and  all  seemed  in  readiness 
for  the  Queen's  coming  forth,  although  the  day  was 
yet  so  early. 

"By  my  faith,  this  bodes  us  no  good,"  said 
Blount;  "it  must  be  some  perilous  cause  puts  her 
Grace  in  motion  at  this  time.  By  my  counsel,  we 
had  best  put  back  again,  and  tell  the  Earl  what 
we  have  seen." 

"Tell  the  Earl  what  we  have  seen!"  said  Walter; 
"why,  what  have  we  seen  but  a  boat,  and  men  with 
scarlet  jerkins,  and  halberds  in  their  hands?  Let 
us  do  his  errand,  and  tell  him  what  the  Queen 
says  in  reply." 

So  saying,  he  caused  the  boat  to  be  pulled  to- 
ward a  landing  place  at  some  distance  from  the 
principal  one,  which  it  would  not,  at  that  moment, 
have  been  thought  respectful  to  approach,  and 
jumped  on  shore,  followed,  though  with  reluctance, 
by  his  cautious  and  timid  companions.  As  they 
approached  the  gate  of  the  palace,  one  of  the  ser- 
geant porters  told  them  that  they  could  not  at 
present  enter,  as  Her  Majesty  was  in  the  act  of 
coming  forth.  The  gentlemen  used  the  name  of 


FIFTH     READER.  229 

the  Earl  of  Sussex  ;N  but  it  proved  no  charm  to  the 
officer,  who  alleged  in  reply,  that  it  was  as  much 
as  his  post  was  worth  to  disobey  in  the  least  tittle 
the  commands  which  he  had  received. 

"ISTay,  I  told  you  as  much  before,"  said  Blount; 
"  do,  I  pray  you,  my  dear  Walter,  let  us  take  the 
boat  and  return." 

"Not  till  I  see  the  Queen  come  forth,"  returned 
the  youth,  composedly. 

At  this  moment  the  gates  opened,  and  ushers 
began  to  issue  forth  in  array,  preceded  and  flanked 
by  the  band  of  Gentlemen  Pensioners.N  After  this, 
amid  a  crowd  of  lords  and  ladies,  yet  so  disposed 
around  her  that  she  could  see  and  be  seen  on  all 
sides,  came  Elizabeth N  herself,  then  in  the  full  glow 
of  what  in  a  sovereign  was  called  beauty,  and  who 
would  in  the  lowest  walk  of  life  have  been  truly 
judged  to  possess  a  noble  figure,  joined  to  a  striking 
and  commanding  physiognomy.  She  leant  on  the 
arm  of  Lord  Hunsdon,  whose  relation  to  her  by  her 
mother's  side  often  procured  him  such  distinguished 
marks  of  Elizabeth's  friendship. 

The  young  cavalier  we  have  so  often  mentioned 
had  probably  never  yet  approached  so  near  the  per- 
son of  his  sovereign,  and  he  pressed  forward  as  far 
as  the  line  of  warders  permitted,  in  order  to  avail 
himself  of  the  present  opportunity. 

His  companion,  on  the  contrary,  cursing  his  im- 
prudence, kept  pulling  him  backward,  till  Walter 
shook  him  off  impatiently,  letting  his  rich  cloak 
drop  carelessly  from  teae  shoulder ;  a  natural  action, 
which  served,  however,  to  display  to  the  best  ad- 
vantage his  well-proportioned  person. 

UnbonnetingN    at    the    same    time,   he    fixed   his 


282  FIFTH    READER. 


J/.  —  AN     INCIDENT     IN     THE     LIFE     OF 

SIR     WALTER     RALEIGH. 

PA  RT     II. 


a  $11'  i  ty,  activity. 
t6p'i-e,  matter;  point. 
em  barVas^  ment,  confusion; 
perplexity. 


as  sSnt',  agreement. 


,  suffering;  pain. 
in  tu'i  tlv^  ly,   without  reason- 


ing. 


garments. 
a  bri^&^d',  made  less  numerous. 


»  subject. 
ry,  sign;  indication. 


Their  discourse  was  here  interrupted  by  one  of 
the  band  of  Pensioners. 

"I  was  sent,"  said  he,  after  looking  at  them  at- 
tentively, "to  a  gentleman  who  hath  no  cloak,  or 
a  muddy  one.— You,  sir,  I  think,"  addressing  the 
younger  cavalier,  "  are  the  man ;  you  will  please  to 
follow  me." 

"He  is  in  attendance  on  me,"  said  Blount,— "on 
me,  the  noble  Earl  of  Sussex's  Master  of  Horse." 

"I  have  nothing  to  say  to  that,"  answered  the 
messenger ;  "  my  orders  are  directly  from  Her  Maj- 
esty, and  concern  this  gentleman  only." 

So  saying,  he  walked  away,  followed  by  Walter, 
leaving  the  others  behind,  Blount's  eyes  almost 
starting  from  his  head  with  the  excess  of  his  as- 
tonishment. At  length  he  gave  vent  to  it  in  an 
exclamation— "Who  in  the  world  would  have  thought 
this ! "  And  shaking  his  head  with  a  mysterious 
air,  he  walked  to  his  own  boat,  embarked,  and  re- 
turned to  Deptford.N 

The  young  cavalier  was,  in  the  meanwhile,  guided 
to  the  water-side  by  the  Pensioner,  who  showed 


FIFTH    READER.  233 

him  considerable  respect ;  a  circumstance  which,  to 
persons  in  his  situation,  may  "be  considered  as  an 
augury  of  no  small  consequence.  He  ushered  him 
into  one  of  the  wherries  which  lay  ready  to  attend 
the  Queen's  barge,  which  was  already  proceeding  up 
the  river,  with  the  advantage  of  that  flood-tide  of 
which,  in  the  course  of  their  descent,  Blount  had 
complained  to  his  associates. 

The  two  rowers  used  their  oars  with  such  ex- 
pedition at  the  signal  of  the  G-entleman  Pensioner, 
that  they  very  soon  brought  their  little  skiff  un- 
der the  stern  of  the  Queen's  boat,  where  she  sat 
beneath  an  awning,  attended  by  two  or  three  ladies, 
and  the  nobles  of  her  household.  She  looked  more 
than  once  at  the  wherry  in  which  the  young  ad- 
venturer was  seated,  spoke  to  those  around  her,  and 
seemed  to  laugh. 

At  length  one  of  the  attendants,  by  the  Queen's 
order  apparently,  made  a  sign  for  the  wherry  to 
come  alongside,  and  the  young  man  was  desired  to 
step  from  his  own  skiff  into  the  Queen's  barge, 
which  he  performed  with  graceful  agility  at  the 
fore  part  of  the  boat,  and  was  brought  aft  to  the 
Queen's  presence,  the  wherry  at  the  same  time 
dropping  to  the  rear.  The  youth  underwent  the 
gaze  of  Majesty,  not  the  less  gracefully  that  his  self- 
possession  was  mingled  with  embarrassment.  The 
muddied  cloak  still  hung  upon  his  arm,  and  formed 
the  natural  topic  with  which  the  Queen  introduced 
the  conversation. 

"  You  have  this  day  spoiled  a  gay  mantle  in  our 
service,  young  man.  We  thank  you  for  your  ser- 
vice, though  the  manner  of  offering  it  was  unusual 
and  something  bold." 


234  FIFTH    READER 

"In  a  sovereign's  need,"  answered  the  youth, 
"it  is  each  liegeman's  duty  to  be  bold." 

"That  was  well  said,  my  lord,"  said  the  Queen, 
turning  to  a  grave  person  who  sat  by  her,  and 
answered  with  a  grave  inclination  of  the  head  and 
something  of  a  mumbled  assent.  "Well,  young 
man,  your  gallantry  shall  not  go  unrewarded.  Go 
to  the  wardrobe-keeper,  and  he  shall  have  orders 
to  supply  the  suit  which  you  have  cast  away  in 
our  service.  Thou  shalt  have  a  suit,  and  that  of 
the  newest  cut;  I  promise  you,  on  the  word  of  a 
princess." 

"May  it  please  your  Q-race,"  said  Walter,  hesi- 
tating, "it  is  not  for  so  humble  a  servant  of  your 
Majesty  to  measure  out  your  bounties;  but  if  it 
became  me  to  choose " 

"Thou  would'st  have  gold,  I  warrant  me,"  said 
the  Queen,  interrupting  him ;  "  fie,  young  man !  I 
take  shame  to  say  that  in  our  capital,  such  and  so 
various  are  the  means  of  thriftless  folly,  that  to 
give  gold  to  youth  is  giving  fuel  to  fire,  and  fur- 
nishing them  with  the  means  for  self-destruction. 
If  I  live  and  reign,  these  means  of  unchristian  ex- 
cess shall  be  abridged.  Yet  thou  may'st  be  poor," 
she  added,  "  or  thy  parents  may  be.  It  shall  be  gold 
if  thou  wilt,  but  thou  shalt  answer  to  me  for  the 
use  of  it." 

Walter  waited  patiently  until  the  Queen  had 
done,  and  then  modestly  assured  her,  that  gold  was 
still  less  in  his  wish  than  the  raiment  her  Majesty 
had  before  offered. 

"How,  boy,"  said  the  Queen,  "neither  gold  nor 
garment!  What  is  it  thou  would'st  have  of  me, 
then  ?" 


FIFTH     READER.  23S 

"Only  permission,  madam  — if  it  is  not  asking 
too  high  an  honor— permission  to  wear  the  cloak 
Which  did  you  this  trifling  service." 

"  Permission  to  wear  thine  own  cloak,  thou  silly 
boy  ! "  said  the  Queen. 

"It  is  no  longer  mine,"  said  Walter.  "When 
your  Majesty's  foot  touched  it,  it  "became  a  fit 
mantle  for  a  prince,  but  far  too  rich  a  one  for  its 
former  owner." 

The  Queen  again  blushed;  and  endeavored  to 
cover  by  laughing,  a  slight  degree  of  not  unpleasing 
surprise  and  confusion. 

"Heard  you  ever  the  like,  .  my  lords?  The 
youth's  head  is  turned  with  reading  romances  — I 
must  know  something  of  him,  that  I  may  send  him 
safe  to  his  friends.  What  is  thy  name  and  birth?" 

"Raleigh  is  my  name,  most  gracious  Queen,  the 
youngest  son  of  a  large  but  honorable  family  in 
Devonshire." 

"Raleigh?"  said  Elizabeth,  after  a  moment's  recol- 
lection; "have  we  not  heard  of  your  service  in 
Ireland?" 

"I  have  been  so  fortunate  as  to  do  some  service 
there,  madam,"  replied  Raleigh,  "scarce,  however, 
of  consequence  sufficient  to  reach  your  Grace's 
ears." 

"They  hear  further  than  you  think  for,"  said 
the  Queen,  graciously,  "and  have  heard  of  a  youth 
who  defended  a  ford  in  Shannon N  against  a  whole 
band  of  rebels,  until  the  stream  ran  purple  with 
their  blood  and  his  own." 

"Some  blood  I  may  have  lost,"  said  the  youth, 
looking  down,  "but  it  was  where  my  best  is  due, 
and  that  is  in  your  Majesty's  service." 


236  FIFTH    READER. 

The  Queen  paused,  and  then  said  hastily,  "You 
are  very  young  to  have  fought  so  well  and  to  speak 
so  well.  But  you  must  not  escape  your  penance 
for  turning  back  Masters— the  poor  man  hath 
caught  cold  on  the  river— for  our  order  reached 
him  when  he  had  just  returned  from  certain  visits 
to  London,  and  he  held  it  a  matter  of  loyalty  and 
conscience  instantly  to  set  forth  again.  So  hark 
ye,  Master  Raleigh,  see  thou  fail  not  to  wear  thy 
muddy  cloak,  in  token  of  penitence,  till  our  pleasure 
be  further  known.  And  here,"  she  added,  giving 
him  a  jewel  of  gold  in  the  form  of  a  chessman, 
"I  give  thee  this  to  wear  at  the  collar." 

Raleigh,  to  whom  nature  had  taught  intuitively, 
as  it  were,  those  courtly  arts  which  many  scarce 
acquire  from  long  experience,  knelt,  and  as  he  took 
from  her  hand  the  jewel,  kissed  the  fingers  which 
gave  it. 

SIR  WALTER  SCOTT. 

Biography.— For  a  biography  of  Sir  Walter  Scott,  see  page  209. 

Notes.  — Deptford  (DSt'furd)  is  a  town  on  the  south  bank  of  the 
Thames,  four  miles  below  London  Bridge. 

The  Shannon  is  the  largest  river  in  Ireland.  It  rises  near  the 
base  of  a  mountain  in  the  County  Cavan,  and,  after  flowing 
about  224  miles,  empties  into  the  Atlantic  Ocean. 

Language.  —  Select  from  the  lesson  an  example  of  the  different 
kinds  of  sentences  —  simple,  compound,  and  complex, 

Point  out  the  sulyect  and  predicate  in  the  simple  sentence,  and 
state  what  are  the  modifiers  of  each.  If  prepositional  phrases  occur, 
show  the  parts  of  which  they  are  composed. 

What  is  meant  by  the  expression,  "The  youth's  head  is  turned 
with  reading  romances  "  ? 

Composition.  —  The  principal  points  in  the  biographical  sketch 
of  an  author  are :  — 

1.  The  place  and  date  of  birth,  and  (if  dead)  the  place  and  date 
of  death ;  2,  Early  life,  and  date  and  name  of  first  publication  ; 
3.  Important  events  in  the  after  life  of  the  author;  4.  Charac- 
teristics of  style  ;  5.  Principal  works. 


FIFTH    READER.  237 


62.  —  TRUE     HEROISM. 


ghast'ly,  dreadful. 

,  gives  up. 
stanch,  firm. 
un  da^nt'  ed,  fearless. 


fo  ra^'  (or  for'a)0,  a  sudden  in* 


vaston. 


,  strength, 
e  r&et',  upright. 


Let  others  write  of  battles  fought, 

Of  bloody,  ghastly  fields, 
Where  honor  greets  the  man  who  wins, 

And  death  the  man  who  yields ; 
But  I  will  write  of  him  who  fights 

And  vanquishes  his  sins, 
Who  struggles  on  through  weary  years 

Against  himself,  and  wins. 

He  is  a  hero  stanch  and  brave 

Who  fights  an  unseen  foe, 
And  puts  at  last  beneath  his  feet 

His  passions  base  and  low ; 
Who  stands  erect  in  manhood's  might, 

Undaunted,  undismayed,— 
The  bravest  man  who  drew  a  sword 

In  foray,  or  in  raid. 

It  calls  for  something  more  than  brawp 

Or  muscle  to  o'ercome 
An  enemy  who  marcheth  not 

With  banner,  plume,  or  drum— 
A  foe  forever  lurking  nigh, 

With  silent,  stealthy  tread ; 
Forever  near  your  board  by  day, 

At  night  beside  your  bed. 


238  FIFTH    READER. 

All  honor,  then,  to  that  brave  heart, 

Though  poor  or  rich  he  be, 
Who  struggles  with  his  "baser  part— 

Who  conquers  and  is  free ! 
He  may  not  wear  a  hero's  crown, 

Or  nil  a  hero's  grave; 
But  truth  will  place  his  name  among 

The  bravest  of  the  brave. 


Elocution.  — The  tone  of  voice  used  in  reading  the  different  por- 
tions of  this  poem  must  "be  determined  by  the  feeling  indicated  in 
the  thoughts  expressed.  In  the  first  four  lines,  disgust  in  a 
measure  rules  the  manner  of  expression ;  in  the  last  four  lines 
of  the  stanza  there  is  simply  determination.  Beginning  -with 
the  second  stanza,  and  continuing  throughout  the  remainder  of 
the  poem,  the  feeling  of  admiration  is  exhibited,  growing  in  in- 
tensity to  the  close  of  the  last  stanza.  As  to  the  manner  of 
reading :  —  the  tone  used  in  the  first  stanza  is  not  "what  is  called 
conversational,  nor  does  it  approach  the  fullness  and  roundness 
necessary  to  the  proper  rendering  of  the  last  stanza  — we  will 
call  it  therefore  a  middle  tone. 

The  three  tones  of  voice  used  in  reading  will  hereafter  be  spoken 
of  as  conversational,  middle,  and  full. 

In  the  lesson,  we  have  an  excellent  opportunity  to  note  the 
development  of  a  full  tone  of  voice.  Beginning  in  the  first  stanza 
with  a  middle  tone,  the  roundness  or  fullness  of  tone  is  increased 
until,  in  the  last  stanza,  it  rises  to  the  intensity  of  expression 
suitable  for  an  emotional  utterance. 

Language.  — The  expression  "weary  years"  in  the  first  para- 
graph means  the  slow  moving  years— hence,  it  serves  to  show 
that  for  the  person  who  struggles  along  through  life,  time  passes 
very  slowly. 

The  name  applied  to  the  figure  just  explained  is  transferred 
epithet,  as  the  epithet  "weary"  is  transferred  from  person  to 
years.  Other  examples  of  the  same  figure  are  "happy  years," 
"anxious  care,"  "laughing  eyes."  It  is  perhaps  as  well  to  class 
all  these  expressions  as  metaphors. 

The  use  of  rhetorical  figures  increases  the  beaut  n  of  language  by 
avoiding  the  ordinary  forms  of  expression.  These  figures  are 
peculiarly  adapted  to  poetry.  There  is  scarcely  a  stanza  which 
does  not  contain  one  or  more  examples. 

Select  a  specimen  of  good  poetry  and  examine  it  carefully  for 
examples  of  metaphor. 


FIFTH    READER.  239 


53.— SCENES     IN     THE     YELLOWSTONE     COUNTRY.* 


me  an'derg,  winds;  flows. 
brSc'cia  (bret'cha),  rocks  made 

of  fragments   and   showing   a 

variety  of  colors. 
ab  rti.pt/ ly,  suddenly. 
a-e  -eu'mu  lat  ed,  gathered. 


ag'gre  gat  ed,  collected. 

ba  salt'i-e,    formed   of    a   rock 

called  basalt. 
•eon  9§VVi  think  of. 


an'tl  quat  ed,  ancient. 
pre  -ea'ri  ^tis,  uncertain. 


That  portion  of  the  Yellowstone  River  lying 
above  Yellowstone  Lake  meanders  through  a  region 
of  the  deepest  interest.  It  flows  through  a  marshy 
valley  three  miles  wide.  Five  lesser  streams  flow 
into  it  from  the  mountains  on  either  side  of  the 
head  of  the  valley,  and  during  the  month  of  Au- 
gust the  vegetation  is  fresh,  green,  and  abundant. 

The  valley  is  walled  in  by  dark,  somber  rocks 
of  volcanic  origin,  which  have  been  weathered N  into 
many  remarkable  architectural  forms.  Looking  up 
the  valley  from  any  high  point,  one  can  easily 
imagine  that  he  is  amid  the  ruins  of  some  gigantic 
city,  so  much  do  these  rocks  appear  like  the  re- 
mains of  the  old  castles  and  cathedrals  of  every 
age  and  clime. 

If  there  be  added  to  this,  the  singular  vertical 
furrows  which  have  been  cut  deep  in  the  sides  of 
the  cliffs,  their  antiquated  appearance  is  rendered 
all  the  more  striking.  At  the  base  of  the  wall, 
like  ridges  along  the  valley,  immense  masses  of 
volcanic  breccia  have  fallen  from  the  mountain 
tops,  crushing  the  pines  along  their  pathway. 

About  fifteen  miles  above  the  lake,  the  valley 
terminates  abruptly,  the  mountains  rising  like 


24O  FIFTH    READER. 

walls  and  shutting  off  the  country  beyond.  The 
river  here  separates  into  three  main  branches,  with 
a  few  smaller  ones,  which  bring  the  aggregated 
waters  of  the  melted  snows  from  the  summits  of 
the  lofty  volcanic  peaks  above.  Just  at  the  head 
of  the  valley  there  is  a  small  lake,  not  more  than 
two  hundred  yards  in  width. 

Ascending  the  mountain  from  the  head  of  the 
valley  on  the  west,  and  from  the  summit  of  a  high 
peak  you  behold  the  whole  basin,  with  the  lofty 
divide,N  in  one  enchanting  view.  As  far  as  the  eye 
can  reach  in  any  direction,  bare,  bald  peaks,  domes, 
and  ridges,  in  almost  countless  numbers,  can  be  seen. 
At  least  a  hundred  peaks,  each  worthy  of  a  name, 
can  be  located  within  the  radius  of  vision. 

Professor  HaydenN  relates  that  he  encamped  one 
night  near  a  small  lake  by  the  side  of  a  huge  bank 
of  snow,  10,000  feet  above  the  sea,  with  the  short 
spring  grass  and  flowers  all  around  him.  On  these 
mountain  summits  there  are  but  two  seasons, 
spring  and  winter.  In  August  the  fresh  new  grass 
may  be  seen  springing  up  where  an  immense  bank 
of  snow  has  but  just  disappeared.  The  little  spring 
flowers,  not  more  than  one  or  two  inches  high, 
cover  the  ground. 

No  more  wonderful  or  attractive  region  for  the 
explorer  can  anywhere  be  found.  He  can  make 
his  way  among  grand  gorges,N  penetrating  every 
valley  and  ascending  every  mountain  slope,  with 
an  abundance  of  grass,  wood,  water,  and  game,  to 
supply  the  wants  of  both  man  and  beast. 

From  the  foot  of  the  lake  the  Yellowstone  flows 
through  a  grassy,  meadow-like  valley,  with  a  calm, 
steady  current,  giving  no  warning,  until  very  near 


FIFTH    READER.  241 

the  falls,  that  it  is  about  to  rush  over  a  precipice 
one  hundred  and  forty  feet  deep,  and  then,  within 
a  quarter  of  a  mile,  again  to  leap  down  a  distance 
of  three  hundred  and  fifty  feet. 

Just  above  the  Upper  Falls  are  two  beautiful 
cascades,  twenty  to  thirty  feet  high.  At  the  first 
or  east  one,  the  rocks  so  wall  in  the  channel  that 
it  is  scarcely  more  than  a  hundred  feet  wide,  and 
the  entire  volume  of  water,  which  must  form  a 
mass  thirty  feet  deep,  rushes  down  a  vertical  de- 
scent of  one  hundred  and  forty  feet. 

It  is  thus  hurled  from  the  precipice  with  the 
force  which  it  has  accumulated  in  the  rapids  above, 
so  that  the  mass  is  broken  into  millions  of  beau- 
tiful snow-white,  bead-like  drops,  and,  as  it  strikes 
the  rocky  basin  below,  it  shoots  forward  with  a 
bounding  motion  for  a  distance  of  two  hundred 
feet.  In  the  distance,  it  presents  the  appearance  of 
a  mass  of  snow-white  foam.  On  the  sides  of  the 
basaltic  walls  there  is  a  thick  growth  of  vegetation, 
nourished  by  the  spray  above,  and  extending  up  as 
far  as  the  moisture  can  reach. 

Language  is  inadequate  to  describe  the  wonder- 
ful grandeur  and  beauty  of  the  canon  below  the 
Lower  Falls.  The  nearly  vertical  walls,  slightly 
sloping  to  the  water's  edge  on  either  side,  give  to 
the  river  the  appearance,  from  the  summit,  of  a 
thread  of  silver,  foaming  over  its  rocky  bot- 
tom. 

The  variegated  colors  of  the  sides— yellow,  red, 
brown,  and  white— all  intermixed  and  shading  into 
each  other;  the  Gothic N  columns  of  every  form, 
standing  out  from  the  sides  of  the  walls  with 
greater  variety  and  more  striking  colors  than 


242  FIFTH    READER. 

ever  adorned  a  work  of  human  art,  afford  a  pict- 
ure of  beauty  and  grandeur  beyond  the  power  of 
imagination  to  conceive. 

The  margins  of  the  Grand  Canon,  on  either  side, 
are  beautifully  fringed  with  pines.  In  some  places 
the  walls  are  composed  of  massive  basalt,  so  sepa- 
rated as  to  look  like  irregular  mason-work  going 
to  decay. 

Standing  near  the  margin  of  the  Lower  Falls 
and  gazing  down  the  canon,  which  appears  like  an 
immense  chasm  in  the  rock,  with  its  sides  fifteen 
hundred  feet  high,  and  decorated  with  the  most 
brilliant  colors  ever  seen  by  human  eye,  with  walls 
presenting  an  almost  infinite  variety  of  forms,  with 
here  and  there  a  pine  sending  its  roots  into  the 
clefts  on  the  sides,  as  if  struggling  with  uncertain 
success  to  maintain  a  precarious  existence— the  scene 
is  one  which  is  rarely  equaled,  and  which  can 
never  be  surpassed. 

WILLIAM  F.  PHELPS. 

Notes.  —  The  Yellowstone  Country  is  a  region  lying  near  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  extending  on  both  sides  of  the  Yellowstone 
River,  in  Montana  Territory. 

Weathered  means  worn  away  or  altered  under  atmospheric 
influence. 

A  divide  is  a  ridge  between  the  tributaries  of  two  streams, 
keeping  them  separate. 

Professor  Hayden  was  an  explorer  of  the  regions  lying  near 
the  Rocky  Mountains. 

Gorges  are  narrow  passages  between  mountains. 

Gothic  is  a  name  applied  to  the  race  of  men  that  spread  over 
Europe  in  the  twelfth  and  thirteenth  centuries. 

Radius  of  vision  means  the  distance  seen  in  any  one  direction 
from  a  certain  point  of  view. 

Language.— "  Snow-white  "  and  "bead-like"  are  compound  words, 
since  they  are  made  up  in  each  case  of  two  simple  words. 

Complex  words  are  formed  by  the  union  of  a  simple  word  with 
a  prefix  or  a  suffix;  as  "countless,"  "intermixed,"  " remarkaoie. •• 


FIFTH    READER. 


THE     DISCOVERY    OF     PHOSPHORUS. 


ab  bre'  vi  at  ing,  shortening. 
s-er\i'pu  lfc?iis,  careful 
mer'-ean  IIJ^,  commercial. 
bank' rupt,  a  person  unable  to 

pay  his  debts. 
as  sum^d',  took. 
sttmpt'u  fcjtis  ly,  luxuriously. 


al'-elsj.e  my,  an  ancient  science 
which  aimed  to  change  other 
metals  into  gold. 

tra  dl'  tion,  an  unwritten  tale  ; 
oral  communication. 

vit'ri  ol,  a  powerful  acid. 

re  t6rt/,  a  chemical  vessel. 


A  little  more  than  two  centuries  ago,  there  lived 
in  Hamburg,  one  of  the  free  cities  of  Northern  Ger- 
many, a  very  rich  and  very  famous  merchant. 
Nicholas  Brandt  was  his  name.  Some  of  his  very 
intimate  friends  called  him  "  Nick "  Brandt ;  but 
these  were  few  in  number.  Most  persons,  so  far 
from  abbreviating  his  name,  placed  a  title  before 
it.  Even  boys,  who  are  not  given  to  bestowing 
titles,  were  scrupulous  to  address  him  in  a  manner 
becoming  a  prince. 

In  truth,  he  was  a  merchant  prince,N  and  there 
was  no  better  way  to  get  a  start  in  the  world  than 
to  secure  a  place  in  the  great  merchant's  establish- 
ment. Had  you  visited  Hamburg  at  the  time  I  am 
speaking  of,  and  put  up  at  the  best  hotel,  you 
would  have  found  yourself  quartered1*  in  one  of 
Brandt's  fine  buildings.  You  would  have  noticed  a 
great  warehouse  just  opposite.  That  belonged  to 
Brandt.  So  did  the  finest  ship  in  the  harbor.  So 
did  the  finest  carriage  that  came  down  the  street. 
Brandt  had  the  finest  of  every  thing. 

Of  course,  Brandt  lived  in  the  very  best  style. 
He  had  pleasure  boats  for  the  water,  and  pleasure 
carriages  for  the  land.  "  He  was  clad  in  purple  and 


244  FIFTH     READER. 

fine  linen,  and  fared  sumptuously  every  day."  Had 
you  seen  his  dinner  table  any  day  in  the  year,  it 
would  have  reminded  you  of  Thanksgiving  or 
Christmas. 

Brandt  was  engaged  in  almost  every  branch  of 
mercantile  business,  and  he  prospered  in  all  of 
them.  For  years  and  years  he  had  a  singular  run 
of  good  luck.  On  account  of  good  fortune  or  su- 
perior judgment,  he  was  always  able  to  buy  cheap 
and  to  sell  dear. 

The  fish  oil  which  he  bought  for  little  more 
than  a  song,  he  traded  off  for  olive  oil  in  some 
Mediterranean  port,  always  making  a  good  profit. 
The  cod  and  herring  which  he  bought  so  cheaply 
of  the  Norwegian  fishermen,  always  happened  to  be 
in  demand  in  Spain  as  soon  as  he  had  made  the 
purchase. 

If  the  market  was  overstocked  with  any  partic- 
ular thing,  he  would  buy  it  up ;  and  then  it  would 
be  found  that  there  was  an  active  demand  for  it  at 
some  port  within  easy  sailing  of  his  ships,  whose 
sails  were  never  struck  by  evil  winds. 

He  traded  in  laces,  silks  and  satins,  and  even 
sent  to  distant  India  to  procure  diamonds  and 
Cashmere N  shawls.  If  he  sold  these  for  cash  it  was 
for  double  the  amount  he  gave.  If  he  bartered 
them  he  made  still  more  money  than  before. 

But  an  evil  day  came  to  the  great  and  prosper- 
ous merchant,  as  it  has  come  to  other  men  who 
have  not  stopped  trying  to  make  more  money  when 
they  had  enough.  As  if  it  were  not  enough  to 
carry  on  trade  in  the  four  corners  of  the  earth,  he 
rushed  into  speculation.  One  fine  morning  he  awoke 
and  found  himself  a  ruined  man. 


FIFTH    fcEAbEH.  248 

Now,  what  did  Brandt,  the  bankrupt,  do  ?  Hadn't 
he  been  in  the  herring-  business  in  his  prosperous 
days?  And  didn't  he  know,  even  after  the  great 
hauls  he  had  made,  that  "  there  were  as  good  fish 
in  the  sea  as  had  ever  been  caught"? 

Of  course  he  did.  And  of  course  he  knew  it  was 
the  general  understanding  that  most  of  the  gold 
and  silver  coins  that  he  had  dropped  into  his  money 
bags  and  strong  boxes  during  his  prosperous  days 
had  been  made  out  of  old  horse-shoes,  copper  bolts, 
and  lead  bullets. 

And  so,  strong  in  his  faith  and  purpose,  as  every 
man  should  be  who  expects  to  accomplish  any  thing, 
he  set  about  preparing  to  make  money  again :  this 
time  in  a  new  way.  There  were  not  a  great  many 
books  on  the  subject  of  changing  old  pewter  spoons 
into  nice,  new  gold  coins,  and  the  few  that  were  in 
existence  were  held  at  a  high  price. 

Nevertheless  he  bought  all  the  volumes  that 
treated  of  this  subject,  that  his  limited  means  would 
allow.  To  increase  his  stock  of  knowledge  he  culti- 
vated the  society  of  certain  persons,  who  were  said 
to  be  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  principles 
and  practices  of  alchemy. 

He  fitted  up  a  small  room  in  the  basement  of 
his  house,  and  stocked  it  with  such  chemicals  as 
the  market  afforded.  When  he  went  down  to  en- 
gage in  his  new  work,  the  place  seemed  rather 
strange  to  him.  He  took  time  to  consider  what 
he  had  better  do  first.  The  books  reported,  and 
some  of  his  new  friends  said  that  it  was  possible 
to  convert  scrap  iron  into  solid  gold,  but  that  it 
was  easier  to  change  silver. 

He  concluded,  being  a  new  hand  at  the  business, 


244  FIFTH     READER. 

fine  linen,  and  fared  sumptuously  every  day."  Had 
you  seen  his  dinner  table  any  day  in  the  year,  it 
would  have  reminded  you  of  Thanksgiving  or 
Christmas. 

Brandt  was  engaged  in  almost  every  branch  of 
mercantile  business,  and  he  prospered  in  all  of 
them.  For  years  and  years  he  had  a  singular  run 
of  good  luck.  On  account  of  good  fortune  or  su- 
perior judgment,  he  was  always  able  to  buy  cheap 
and  to  sell  dear. 

The  fish  oil  which  he  bought  for  little  more 
than  a  song,  he  traded  off  for  olive  oil  in  some 
Mediterranean  port,  always  making  a  good  profit. 
The  cod  and  herring  which  he  bought  so  cheaply 
of  the  Norwegian  fishermen,  always  happened  to  be 
in  demand  in  Spain  as  soon  as  he  had  made  the 
purchase. 

If  the  market  was  overstocked  with  any  partic- 
ular thing,  he  would  buy  it  up ;  and  then  it  would 
be  found  that  there  was  an  active  demand  for  it  at 
some  port  within  easy  sailing  of  his  ships,  whose 
sails  were  never  struck  by  evil  winds. 

He  traded  in  laces,  silks  and  satins,  and  even 
sent  to  distant  India  to  procure  diamonds  and 
Cashmere  N  shawls.  If  he  sold  these  for  cash  it  was 
for  double  the  amount  he  gave.  If  he  bartered 
them  he  made  still  more  money  than  before. 

But  an  evil  day  came  to  the  great  and  prosper- 
ous merchant,  as  it  has  come  to  other  men  who 
have  not  stopped  trying  to  make  more  money  when 
they  had  enough.  As  if  it  were  not  enough  to 
carry  on  trade  in  the  four  corners  of  the  earth,  he 
rushed  into  speculation.  One  fine  morning  he  awoke 
and  found  himself  a  ruined  man. 


FIFTH    fcEADEB.  248 

Now,  what  did  Brandt,  the  bankrupt,  do  ?  Hadn't 
he  been  in  the  herring  business  in  his  prosperous 
days?  And  didn't  he  know,  even  after  the  great 
hauls  he  had  made,  that  "  there  were  as  good  fish 
in  the  sea  as  had  ever  been  caught"? 

Of  course  he  did.  And  of  course  he  knew  it  was 
the  general  understanding  that  most  of  the  gold 
and  silver  coins  that  he  had  dropped  into  his  money 
bags  and  strong  boxes  during  his  prosperous  days 
had  been  made  out  of  old  horse-shoes,  copper  bolts, 
and  lead  bullets. 

And  so,  strong  in  his  faith  and  purpose,  as  every 
man  should  be  who  expects  to  accomplish  any  thing, 
he  set  about  preparing  to  make  money  again :  this 
time  in  a  new  way.  There  were  not  a  great  many 
books  on  the  subject  of  changing  old  pewter  spoons 
into  nice,  new  gold  coins,  and  the  few  that  were  in 
existence  were  held  at  a  high  price. 

Nevertheless  he  bought  all  the  volumes  that 
treated  of  this  subject,  that  his  limited  means  would 
allow.  To  increase  his  stock  of  knowledge  he  culti- 
vated the  society  of  certain  persons,  who  were  said 
to  be  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  principles 
and  practices  of  alchemy. 

He  fitted  up  a  small  room  in  the  basement  of 
his  house,  and  stocked  it  with  such  chemicals  as 
the  market  afforded.  When  he  went  down  to  en- 
gage in  his  new  work,  the  place  seemed  rather 
strange  to  him.  He  took  time  to  consider  what 
he  had  better  do  first.  The  books  reported,  and 
some  of  his  new  friends  said  that  it  was  possible 
to  convert  scrap  iron  into  solid  gold,  but  that  it 
was  easier  to  change  silver. 

He  concluded,  being  a  new  hand  at  the  business, 


246  FIFTH    READER. 

that  lie  would  not  commence  on  the  most  difficult 
experiment  first.  When  he  got  into  practice  he 
would  make  "bright  gold  out  of  rusty  iron,  as  others 
did;  but  in  his  first  day's  work  he  would  be  satis- 
fied with  making  it  from  silver. 

He  had  an  old  silver  pocket-piece,N  which  he  had 
carried  a  long  time  for  luck.  His  uncle,  for  whom 
he  was  named,  had  given  it  to  him.  He  purposed, 
as  it  was  a  little  worn,  to  convert  it  into  a  gold 
coin. 

The  stove  which  warmed  the  apartment  of 
Brandt,  the  alchemist,  and  which  served  the  pur- 
pose of  a  chemical  furnace,  did  not  look  a  bit  like 
the  iron  stoves  we  use.  It  was  a  large,  square, 
awkward-looking  affair,  made  of  Dutch  bricks. 

Brandt,  the  alchemist,  was  too  intent  on  his 
work  to  keep  a  correct  account  of  all  he  did,  and 
I  can  not,  therefore,  give  the  exact  details  of  his 
experiment.  A  tradition  states  that  he  placed  a 
porcelain  dish  on  this  queer-looking  stove,  into 
which  he  dropped  his  silver  pocket-piece.  On  this 
he  placed  some  lime,  and  afterward  poured  on  some 
queer  liquid  and  oil  of  vitriol.  The  contents  were 
soon  boiling,  and  he  stirred  them  with  a  stick. 

He  soon  noticed  that  the  end  of  the  stick  turned 
black  as  a  coal ;  but  this  did  not  alarm  him— he 
was  on  the  look-out  for  strange  things.  After 
stirring  the  mixture  for  some  time  his  stick  all 
turned  to  coal  and  became  part  of  the  contents  of 
the  dish.  There  was  no  appearance  of  gold,  and  he 
concluded  to  make  a  change  in  his  plan  of  opera- 
tions. 

So  he  scraped  the  material,  which  had  become 
quite  dry,  into  an  earthen  retort,  the  bulb  of  which 


FlFTfi    READER.  247 

he  placed  among  the  coals,  letting  the  end  of  the 
neck  project  into  water.  After  a  little  while  he 
noticed  bubbles  of  gas  coming  out  of  the  retort, 
passing  through  the  water,  and  then  taking  fire  in 
the  air.  Brandt  got  excited.  If  he  had  not  made 
gold  out  of  silver,  he  had  made  charcoal  out  of  a 
stick  without  burning  it,  and  had  caused  fire  to 
come  from  water. 

Brandt  punched  the  fire.  As  he  did  so  he  noticed 
that  a  liquid  substance  came  out  of  the  neck  of 
the  retort,  and  dropped  into  the  water.  As  it  did 
so  it  cooled  and  assumed  the  size  and  form  of  shot. 
The  drops  had  a  yellow  look,  and  it  might  be  that 
they  were  gold,  though  not  fine  gold.  He  fished 
one  of  them  out  with  a  spoon,  and  laid  it  on  the 
table.  Both  color  and  weight  were  rather  light 
for  gold. 

He  thought  he  would  try  his  knife  on  it.  He 
did  so,  and  it  burst  into  flame,  filling  the  room 
with  a  white  smoke.  The  long  and  short  of  the 
whole  matter  was— old  Brandt  had  discovered  phos- 
phorus. 

Brandt  didn't  know  any  more  than  a  child  what 
to  do  with  this  discovery.  After  some  time,  he 
sold  the  secret  to  a  man  named  Kraft,  of  Dresden. 
Neither  Brandt  nor  Kraft  ever  knew  to  what  won- 
derful purposes  the  substance  would  be  put. 

They  never  dreamed  that  it  would  be  converted 
into  an  acid  to  be  used  in  raising  bread,  or  that 
tons  of  it  would  be  manufactured  every  year  for 
the  purpose  of  making  matches,  though  only  one 
pound  is  required  to  tip  half  a  million  of  these 
useful  articles. 

RODNEY  WELCH. 


FIFTH 


Notes.— Merchant  prince  is  a  name  applied,  to  merchants  who 
have  acquired  great  fortunes  by  trade.  It  means  that  their  im- 
mense wealth  gives  them  both  the  luxuries  and  the  power 
belonging  to  princes. 

Quartered,  as  used  in  the  second  paragraph,  means  occupying 
a  room  or  rooms. 

Cashmere  shawls  are  made  from  the  hair  of  the  Cashmere  goat. 
This  hair  is  straight,  and  about  eighteen  inches  long.  Shawls 
of  the  finest  quality  are  sold  at  from  $500  to  $2,000  each. 

A  pocket-piece  is  a  coin,  usually  of  a  foreign  country,  carried 
in  memory  of  the  giver. 

Elocution.— Make  a  list  of  the  emphatic  words  in  the  last 
paragraph,  and  in  every  case  give  a  reason  for  the  emphasis. 

Language.  — Overstocked  is  made  up  of  what  two  words?  Is 
it  a  compound  or  a  complex  word? 

Remark.  — If  a  word  is  used  as  a  prefix  or  suffix  in  connection 
with  a  large  number  of  words,  it  is  customary  to  call  such  a 
word  a  prefix  or  suffix,  and  not  part  of  a  compound  word.  ' '  Never- 
theless" is  a  compound,  made  up  of  three  separate  simple  words. 
"Fearless"  is  a  complex  word,  the  suffix  less  meaning  without. 


66.  —  THE  DEATH  OF  THE  OLD  YEAR. 


brim,  upper  edge;  rim;  margin. 

jgst,  fun. 

quips,  smart,  sarcastic  turns. 


(ar),    one  who   receives   the 
property  after  the  death  of  the 


owner. 


Full  knee-deep  lies  the  winter  snow, 
And  the  winter  winds  are  wearily  sighing: 
Toll  ye  the  church  "bell  sad  and  slow, 
And  tread  softly  and  speak  low, 
For  the  old  year  lies  a-dying. 

Old  year,  you  must  not  die; 
You  came  to  us  so  readily, 
You  lived  with  us  so  steadily, 
Old  year,  you  shall  not  die. 


He  lieth  still :   lie  doth  not  move : 
He  will  not  see  the  dawn  of  day, 
He  hath  no  other  life  above. 
He  gave  me  a  friend,  and  a  true  true-love, 
And  the   New-year   will  take  'em  away. 

Old  year,  you  must  not  go ; 
So  long  as  you  have  been  with  us, 
Such  joy  as  you  have  seen  with  us, 
Old  year,  you  shall  not  go. 

He  froth'd  his  "bumpers  to  the  brim; 
A  jollier  year  we  shall  not  see. 

But  tho'  his  eyes  are  waxing  dim, 
And  tho'  his  foes  speak  ill  of  him, 
He  was  a  friend  to  me. 

Old  year,  you  shall  not  die ; 
We  did  so  laugh  and  cry  with  you, 
I've  half  a  mind  to  die  with  you, 
Old  year,  if  you  must  die. 

He  was  so  full  of  joke  and  jest, 
But  all  his  merry  quips  are  o'er. 
To  see  him  die,  across  the  waste 
His  son  and  heir  doth  ride  post-haste,N 
But  he'll  be  dead  before. 

Every  one  for  his  own : 
The  night  is  starry  and  cold,  my  friend, 
And  the  New-year  blithe  and  bold,  my  friend, 
Comes  up  to  take  his  own. 

How  hard  he  breathes!     Over  the  snow 
I  heard  just  now  the  crowing  cock. 
The  shadows  nicker  to  and  fro ! 


250  FIFTH    HEADER. 

The  cricket  chirps  1   the  light  burns  low  1 
Tis  nearly  twelve  o'clock. 

Shake  hands,  before  you  die , 
Old  year,  we'll  dearly  rue  for  you : 
What  is  it  we  can  do  for  you? 

Speak  out  before  you  die. 

His  face  is  growing  sharp  and  thin; 
Alack  !   our  friend  is  gone  ! 

Close  up  his  eyes :   tie  up  his  chin : 
Step  from  the  corpse,  and  let  him  in 
That  standeth  there  alone, 

And  waiteth  at  the  door. 

There's  a  new  foot  on  the  floor,  my  friend, 
And  a  new  face  at  the  door,  my  friend, 
A  new  face  at  the  door. 

ALFRED  TENNYSON 


Biography.— Alfred  Tennyson,  the  poet  laureate  of  England, 
was  born  at  Somersby,  in  Lincolnshire,  in  1810. 

Tennyson  gave  signs  at  an  early  age  of  his  poetic  genius,  and 
in  1827,  along  with  his  brother  Charles,  issued  a  small  volume, 
entitled  "Poems  by  Two  Brothers."  At  Trinity  College,  Cam- 
bridge, he  gained,  in  1829,  the  Chancellor's  Medal  for  a  poem 
entitled  "  Timbuctoo."  From  this  time,  his  merit  was  acknowl- 
edged. In  1850,  on  the  death  of  Wordsworth,  he  became  poet 
laureate — that  is,  an  officer  of  the  royal  household,  who  annually 
composes  a  poem  for  the  sovereign's  birthday. 

His  verse,  in  its  musical  flow  and  its  felicity  of  expression, 
surpasses  that  of  any  other  English  poet.  There  are  also  a  depth 
of  feeling  and  a  purity  of  thought  throughout  every  thing  which 
he  has  written  that  call  forth  enthusiasm  from  all  mankind. 

Tennyson's  most  popular  works  are  "The  Princess,"  "In 
Memoriam,"  "Maud  and  other  Poems,"  "Idyls  of  the  King," 
and  "Enoch  Arden." 

Note.—  Post-haste  means  with  great  speed.  In  old  times,  it  was 
customary  to  change  coach-horses  every  few  miles  so  that  letters 
could  be  carried  as  quickly  as  possible. 

Elocution.  —  In  what  manner  should  the  poem  be  read? 


FIFTH    HEADER. 
66.  —  THE     BURNING    OF     MOSCOW. 

PART     I. 


fijil  fll\^d',  brought  to  pass;  car- 

ried into  effect. 
ab  sta\n',  keep  from. 
6  ri  Snt'al,  eastern. 
6m'  i 


marshal,   the  highest  military 

officer  in  France. 
gd'i  fl9  eg,  fine  houses. 

,  end. 

in  9Ss'sant,  continual. 
se  ren^', 


be  tok'^n^d,  indicated. 


At  length.  Moscow, N  with  its  domes,  towers, 
and  palaces,  appeared  in  sight ;  and  Napoleon,*  who 
had  joined  the  advance  guard,  gazed  long  and 
thoughtfully  at  that  goal  of  his  wishes.  MuratN 
went  forward,  and  entered  the  gates  with  his 
splendid  cavalry ;  but  as  he  passed  through  the 
streets  he  was  struck  by  the  solitude  that  sur- 
rounded him.  Nothing  was  heard  but  the  heavy 
tramp  of  his  squadrons  as  he  passed  along;  for  a 
deserted  and  abandoned  city  was  the  meager  prize 
for  which  such  unparalleled  efforts  had  been  made. 

As  night  drew  its  curtain  over  the  splendid  capi- 
tal, Napoleon  entered  the  gates,  and  immediately 
appointed  MortierN  governor.  In  his  directions  he 
commanded  him  to  abstain  from  all  pillage.  "For 
this,"  said  he,  "you  shall  be  answerable  with  your 
life.  Defend  Moscow  against  all,  whether  friend  or 
foe."  The  bright  moon  rose  over  the  mighty  city, 
tipping  with  silver  the  domes  of  more  than  two 
hundred  churches,  and  pouring  a  flood  of  light  over 
a  thousand  palaces  and  the  dwellings  of  three  hun- 
dred thousand  inhabitants.  The  weary  soldiers 
sunk  to  rest,  but  there  was  no  sleep  for  Mortier's 
eyes. 


FIFTH    READER. 


Not  the  gorgeous  and  variegated  palaces  and 
their  rich  ornaments,  nor  the  parks  and  gardens 
and  oriental  magnificence  that  every-where  sur- 
rounded him,  kept  him  wakeful,  "but  the  ominous 
foreboding  that  some  dire  calamity  was  hanging 
over  the  silent  capital. 

When  he  entered  it,  scarcely  a  living  soul  met 
his  gaze  as  he  looked  down  the  long  streets;  and 
when  he  broke  open  the  "buildings,  he  found  par- 
lors, "bedrooms,  and  chambers  all  furnished  and 
in  order,  but  no  occupants.  This  sudden  abandon- 
ment of  their  homes  betokened  some  secret  pur- 
pose yet  to  be  fulfilled. 

The  midnight  moon  was  setting  over  the  city, 
when  the  cry  of  "Fire!"  reached  the  ears  of  Mor- 
tier  ;  and  the  first  light  over  Napoleon's  faltering 
empire  was  kindled,  and  that  most  wondrous  scene 
of  modern  times  commenced—  the  Burning  of  Mos- 
cow. 

Mortier,  as  governor  of  the  city,  immediately 
issued  his  orders,  and  was  putting  forth  every  ex- 
ertion, when  at  daylight  Napoleon  hastened  to  him. 
Affecting  to  disbelieve  the  reports  that  the  inhabi- 
tants were  firing  their  own  city,  he  put  more 
rigid  commands  on  Mortier  to  keep  the  soldiers 
from  the  work  of  destruction.  The  marshal  simply 
pointed  to  some  iron-covered  houses  that  had  not 
yet  been  opened,  from  every  crevice  of  which  smoke 
was  issuing  like  steam  from  the  sides  of  a  pent-up 
volcano.  Sad  and  thoughtful,  Napoleon  turned  to- 
ward the  Kremlin,  N  the  ancient  palace  of  the  Czars, 
whose  huge  structure  rose  high  above  the  surround- 
ing edifices. 

In  the  morning,  Mortier,  by  great  exertions,  was 


FIFTH    READER.  253 

enabled  to  subdue  the  fire ;  but  the  next  night, 
September  15th,  at  midnight,  the  sentinels  at  watch 
upon  the  lofty  Kremlin  saw  below  them  the  flames 
bursting  through  the  houses  and  palaces,  and  the 
cry  of  "Fire!  fire!"  passed  through  the  city. 

The  dread  scene  was  now  fairly  opened.  Fiery 
balloons  were  seen  dropping  from  the  air  and  light- 
ing on  the  houses;  dull  explosions  were  heard  on 
every  side  from  the  shut-up  dwellings,  and  the 
next  moment,  light  burst  forth,  and  the  flames 
were  raging  through  the  apartments. 

All  was  uproar  and  confusion.  The  serene  air 
and  moonlight  of  the  night  before  had  given  way 
to  driving  clouds  and  a  wild  tempest,  that  swept 
like  the  roar  of  the  sea  over  the  city.  Flames  rose 
on  every  side,  blazing  and  crackling  in  the  storm; 
while  clouds  of  smoke  and  sparks,  in  an  incessant 
shower,  went  driving  toward  the  Kremlin.  The 
clouds  themselves  seemed  turned  into  fire,  rolling 
wrath  over  devoted  Moscow.  Mortier,  crushed  with 
the  responsibility  thrown  upon  his  shoulders, 
moved  with  his  Young  G-uard  amid  this  desolation, 
blowing  up  the  houses  and  facing  the  tempest  and 
the  flames,  struggling  nobly  to  arrest  the  con- 
flagration. 

He  hastened  from  place  to  place  amid  the  ruins, 
his  face  blackened  with  smoke,  and  his  hair  and 
eyebrows  singed  with  the  fierce  heat.  At  length 
the  day  dawned  — a  day  of  tempest  and  of  flame— 
and  Mortier,  who  had  strained  every  nerve  for 
thirty-six  hours,  entered  a  palace  and  dropped  down 
from  fatigue.  The  manly  form  and  stalwart  arm, 
that  had  so  often  carried  death  into  the  ranks  of 
the  enemy,  at  length  gave  way,  and  the  gloomy 


254  FIFTH    READER. 

marshal  lay  and  panted  in  utter  exhaustion.  But 
the  night  of  tempest  had  been  succeeded  by  a  day 
of  tempest;  and  when  night  again  enveloped  the 
city,  it  was  one  broad  name,  waving  to  and  fro  in 
the  blast. 

Notes.  — Moscow  (M6s'k<5),  the  ancient  capital  of  Bussia,  was 
founded  in  the  twelfth  century.  The  great  fire  described  in  these 
lessons  took  place  in  the  year  1812.  The  city  had,  in  1870,  a  pop- 
ulation of  600,000. 

Na  pO'  le  on  Bo'  na  parte,  Emperor  of  the  French  and  the  great- 
est general  of  modern  times,  was  born  on  the  Island  of  Corsica 
in  1769,  and  died  as  an  exile  on  the  Island  of  Saint  Hele'na  in 
1821. 

Mortier  is  pronounced  Mor  tee  a" ;   and  Murat,  Mil  ra". 

The  word  Kr&m/lin  means  a  citadel  or  fortress.  The  Kremlin 
of  Moscow  now  contains  an  imperial  palace,  an  arsenal,  and  a 
number  of  churches.  '  It  is  situated  on  a  hill,  and  with  its  gilded 
domes  presents  a  magnificent  appearance. 

Elocution.  — The  first  part  of  this  lesson  should  be  read  with 
the  middle  tone  of  voice.  But  when  we  come  to  the  description 
of  the  fire  in  its  awful  grandeur,  we  should  naturally  use  the 
full  tone  with  which  to  express  the  feelings  of  solemnity  and  awe 
inspired  by  the  picture  presented. 


> —  THE     BURNING     OF     MOSCOW. 

PART      II. 


ex  tln'guish,  to  put  an  end  to; 
to  destroy. 


In  de  s-erlb'a  bl^,  that  which 

can  not  be  narrated. 
sub  II m^',  grand. 

suf'  fo  -eat  ed,  choked.  un  s-eath^d'  (or  un  scathed'),  un- 

In  -eon  9e\v'a  bl^,  that  which 

can  not  be  understood. 
pos'tern,  back;  small;  private. 

The  wind  had  increased  to  a  perfect  hurricane, 
and  shifted  from  quarter  to  quarter,  as  if  on  pur- 
pose to  swell  the  sea  of  fire  and  extinguish  the  last 
hope.  The  fire  was  approaching  the  Kremlin,  and 


eT  e  vat  ing,  raising. 

,  leaving ;  departure. 


FIFTH     READER. 


already  the  roar  of  the  flames,  and  the  crash  of 
falling  houses,  and  the  crackling  of  burning  tim- 
bers, were  borne  to  the  ears  of  the  startled  Em- 
peror. He  rose  and  walked  to  and  fro,  stopping 
convulsively,  and  gazing  on  the  terrific  scene.  Mu- 
rat,  Eugene,N  and  BerthierN  rushed  into  his  presence, 
and  on  their  knees  besought  him  to  flee  ;  but  he 
still  clung  to  that  haughty  palace  as  if  it  were  his 
empire. 

But  at  length  the  shout,  "The  Kremlin  is  on 
fire  !  "  was  heard  above  the  roar  of  the  conflagra- 
tion, and  Napoleon  reluctantly  consented  to  leave. 
He  descended  into  the  streets  with  his  staff,  and 
looked  about  for  a  way  of  egress,  but  the  flames 
blocked  every  passage.  At  length  they  discovered 
a  postern  gate,  leading  to  the  river  Moskwa,N  and 
entered  it  ;  but  they  had  passed  still  farther  into 
the  danger.  As  Napoleon  cast  his  eyes  round  the 
open  space,  girdled  and  arched  with  flre,  smoke, 
and  cinders,  he  saw  one  single  street  yet  open,  but 
all  on  fire.  Into  this  he  rushed,  and  amid  the 
crash  of  falling  houses,  and  the  raging  of  the  flames, 
over  burning  ruins,  through  clouds  of  rolling  smoke, 
and  between  walls  of  fire,  he  pressed  on.  At  length, 
half  suffocated,  he  emerged  in  safety  from  the  blaz- 
ing city,  and  took  up  his  quarters  in  the  imperial 
palace  nearly  three  miles  distant. 

Mortier,  relieved  from  his  anxiety  for  the  Em- 
peror, redoubled  his  efforts  to  arrest  the  conflagra- 
tion. His  men  cheerfully  rushed  into  every  danger. 
Breathing  nothing  but  smoke  and  ashes;  canopied 
by  flame  and  smoke  and  cinders  ;  surrounded  by 
walls  of  flre,  that  rocked  to  and  fro,  and  fell  with 
a  crash  amid  the  blazing  ruins,  carrying  down  with 


FIFTH    READER. 


tliem  red-hot  roofs  of  iron,  he  struggled  against  an 
enemy  that  no  "boldness  could  awe,  no  courage  over- 
come. 

Those  brave  troops  had  often  heard  without  fear 
the  tramp  of  thousands  of  cavalry  sweeping  to  bat- 
tle ;  but  now  they  stood  in  still  terror  before  the 
march  of  the  conflagration,  under  whose  burning 
footsteps  was  heard  the  incessant  crash  of  falling 
houses,  palaces,  and  churches.  The  continuous  roar 
of  the  raging  hurricane,  mingled  with  that  of  the 
names,  was  more  terrible  than  the  thunder  of  ar- 
tillery; and  before  this  new  foe,  in  the  midst  of 
this  battle  of  the  elements,  the  awe-struck  army 
stood  affrighted  and  powerless. 

When  night  again  descended  on  the  city  it  pre- 
sented a  spectacle,  the  like  of  which  was  never  seen 
before,  and  which  baffles  all  description.  The  streets 
were  streets  of  flre,  the  heavens  a  canopy  of  fire, 
and  the  entire  body  of  the  city  a  mass  of  flre,  fed 
by  a  hurricane  that  sped  the  blazing  fragments  in 
a  constant  stream  through  the  air.  Incessant  ex- 
plosions, from  the  blowing  up  of  stores  of  oil,  tar, 
and  spirits,  shook  the  very  foundations  of  the  city, 
and  sent  vast  volumes  of  smoke  rolling  furiously 
toward  the  sky. 

Huge  sheets  of  canvas  oil  flre  came  floating  like 
messengers  of  death  through  the  flames;  the  towers 
and  domes  of  the  churches  and  palaces,  glowing 
with  a  red  heat  over  the  wild  sea  below,  then  tot- 
tering a  moment  on  their  bases,  were  hurled  by  the 
tempest  into  the  common  ruin.  Thousands  of 
wretches,  before  unseen,  were  driven  by  the  heat 
from  the  cellars  and  hovels,  and  streamed  in  an 
incessant  throng  through  the  streets. 


FIFTH    READER.  237 

Children  were  seen  carrying  their  parents;  the 
strong,  the  weak ;  while  thousands  more  were  stag- 
gering under  the  loads  of  plunder  which  they  had 
snatched  from  the  flames.  This,  too,  would  fre- 
quently take  fire  in  the  falling  shower;  and  the 
miserable  creatures  would  be  compelled  to  drop  it 
and  flee  for  their  lives.  O,  it  was  a  scene  of  woe 
and  fear  inconceivable  and  indescribable !  A  mighty 
and  closely  packed  city  of  houses,  churches,  and 
palaces,  wrapped  from  limit  to  limit  in  flames, 
which  are  fed  by  a  whirling  hurricane,  is  a  sight 
this  world  will  seldom  see. 

But  this  was  within  the  city.  To  Napoleon, 
without,  the  spectacle  was  still  more  sublime  and 
terrific.  When  the  flames  had  overcome  all  obsta- 
cles, and  had  wrapped  everything  in  their  red 
mantle,  that  great  city  looked  like  a  sea  of  rolling 
fire,  swept  by  a  tempest  that  drove  it  into  billows. 
Huge  domes  and  towers,  throwing  off  sparks  like 
blazing  fire-brands,  now  disappeared  in  their  mad- 
dening flow,  as  they  rushed  and  broke  high  over 
their  tops,  scattering  their  spray  of  fire  against  the 
clouds.  The  heavens  themselves  seemed  to  have 
caught  the  conflagration,  and  the  angry  masses 
that  swept  it  rolled  over  a  bosom  of  flre. 

Columns  of  flame  would  rise  and  sink  along  the 
surface  of  this  sea,  and  huge  volumes  of  black 
smoke  suddenly  shoot  into  the  air,  as  if  volcanoes 
were  working  below.  The  black  form  of  the  Krem- 
lin alone  towered  above  the  chaos,  now  wrapped  in 
flame  and  smoke,  again  emerging  into  view,  and 
standing  amid  this  scene  of  desolation  and  terror, 
like  virtue  in  the  midst  of  a  burning  world,  en- 
veloped but  unscathed  by  the  devouring  elements. 


258  FIFTH     READER. 

Napoleon  stood  and  gazed  on  the  scene  in  silent 
awe.  Though,  nearly  three  miles  distant,  the  win- 
dows and  walls  of  his  apartment  were  so  hot  that 
he  could  scarcely  bear  his  hand  against  them. 
Said  he,  years  afterward,  "It  was  the  spectacle  of 
a  sea  and  billows  of  fire,  a  sky  and  clouds  of  flame ; 
mountains  of  red,  rolling  flames,  like  immense 
waves  of  the  sea,  alternately  bursting  forth  and 
elevating  themselves  to  skies  of  fire,  and  then  sink- 
ing into  the  flame  below.  O,  it  was  the  most  grand, 
the  most  sublime,  and  the  most  terrific  sight  the 
world  ever  beheld!" 

J.  T.  HEADLEY. 


Biography.  — Rev.  Joel  Tyler  Headley  was  born  at  Walton,  New 
York,  In  1814,  and  graduated  at  Union  College  in  1839. 

After  preparing  for  the  Church,  he  acted  as  pastor  of  a  con- 
gregation in  Stockbridge,  Mass.,  but  was  obliged  to  leave  the 
ministry  on  account  of  the  failure  of  his  health.  After  spending 
two  years  in  Italy,  he  returned  home  and  published  "A  Trans- 
lation from  the  Q-erman,"  in  1844:,  and  "Letters  from  Italy,"  in 
1845. 

His  most  popular  works  are  "The  Alps  and  the  Rhine,"  "Na- 
poleon and  his  Marshals,"  and  his  historical  and  biographical 
sketches.  The  sale  of  his  books  has  been  almost  unprecedented. 

Notes.— Eugene  is  pronounced  in  English,  either  Eu'gene  or 
Eu  gene' ;  Berthier  is  pronounced  Ber  te  a'. 

Moskwa  (MSsk'wa)  is  the  name  of  the  river  on  which  Moscow 
is  situated. 

Elocution — Point  out  the  quotation  where  calling  tones  may 
be  employed. 

Language.  —  Explain  each  of  the  following  figures:  "A  sea  of 
fire,"  "Canopied  by  flame,"  "Burning  footsteps,"  "Eire  fed  by  a 
hurricane,"  and  "Wrapped  every  thing  in  their  red  mantle." 

Notice  the  climax  in  the  last  sentence  of  the  lesson. 

Composition.  —Select  the  principal  points  in  the  lesson  and 
join  them  in  the  form  of  an  analysis. 

Give  rules  for  the  marks  of  punctuation  employed  in  the  first 
paragraph  of  this  lesson. 


FIFTH    READER.  239 


.-A    THANKSGIVING. 


mlr'ror^d,  reflected  as  in  a  mir- 


ror. 


as  pi  ra'  tions.,  strong  wisJies  or 
desires. 


am' a  ranth,  an  imaginary 
flower,  said  never  to  fade  or 
perish. 

molten,  glowing ;  melted. 


For  the  wealth  of  pathless  forests, 

Whereon  no  ax  may  fall; 
For  the  winds  that  haunt  the  "branches; 

For  the  young  "bird's  timid  call; 
For  the  red  leaves  dropped  like  rubies 

Upon  the  dark  green  sod; 
For  the  waving  of  the  forest, 

I  thank  Thee,  O  my  God! 

For  the  sound  of  water  gushing 

In  bubbling  beads  of  light; 
For  the  fleets  of  snow-white  lilies 

Firm  anchored  out  of  sight; 
For  the  reeds  among  the  eddies; 

The  crystal  on  the  clod; 
For  the  flowing  of  the  rivers, 

I  thank  Thee,  O  my  Godl 

For  the  rosebud's  break  of  beauty* 

Along  the  toiler's  way; 
For  the  violet's  eye  that  opens 

To  bless  the  new-born  day; 
For  the  bare  twigs  that  in  summer 

Bloom  like  the  prophet's  rod; 
For  the  blossoming  of  flowers, 

I  thank  Thee,  O  my.  Qodl 


260  FIFTH    READER. 

For  the  lifting  up  of  mountains, 

In  "brightness  and  in  dread; 
For  the  peaks  where  snow  and  sunshine 

Alone  have  dared  to  tread; 
For  the  dark  of  silent  gorges, 

Whence  mighty  cedars  nod; 
For  the  majesty  of  mountains, 

I  thank  Thee,  O  my  God! 

For  the  splendor  of  the  sunsets, 

Vast  mirrored  on  the  sea; 
For  the  gold-fringed  clouds  that  curtain 

Heaven's  inner  mystery; 
For  the  molten  bars  of  twilight, 

Where  thought  leans  glad,  yet  awed; 
For  the  glory  of  the  sunsets, 

I  thank  Thee,  O  my  God! 

For  the  earth  and  all  its  beauty ; 

The  sky  and  all  its  light; 
For  the  dim  and  soothing  shadows, 

That  rest  the  dazzled  sight; 
For  unfading  fields  and  prairies, 

Where  sense  in  vain  hath  trod; 
For  the  world's  exhaustless  beauty, 

I  thank  Thee,  O  my  God. 

For  an  eye  of  inward  seeing; 

A  soul  to  know  and  love; 
For  these  common  aspirations 

That  our  high  heirship  prove; 
For  the  hearts  that  bless  each  other 

Beneath  Thy  smile,  Thy  rod; 
For  the  amaranth  saved  from  Eden, 

I  thank  Thee,  O  my  God! 


FIFTH    READER. 


261 


For  the  hidden  scroll,  o'erwritten 

With  one  dear  name  adored; 
For  the  heavenly  in  the  human, 

The  spirit  in  the  Word; 
For  the  tokens  of  Thy  presence 

Within,  above,  abroad  ; 
For  Thine  own  great  gift  of  Being, 

I  thank  Thee,  O  my  G-od  ! 

LUCY  LARCOM. 


Notes.  —  Lucy  Larcom  is  a  native  of  Massachusetts.  She  has 
been  for  many  years  a  popular  contributor  to  periodical  literature. 

Break  of  beauty  means  the  unfolding  of  the  beautiful  petals  of 
the  rose. 

Elocution.  —  Each  stanza  of  the  poem  is  an  elocutionary  climax. 

An  increase  of  force  is  given  to  each  line,  and  the  refrain  at  the 
close  of  every  stanza  should  be  read  slowly,  forcibly,  and  with  a 
full,  clear  tone  of  voice. 

Language.  —  In  each  stanza  of  the  poem,  there  is  only  one 
sentence  of  which  the  subject  is  "I"  and  the  predicate  "thank" 
and  its  modifiers.  The  first  stanza  is  a  complex  sentence  and  the 
second  stanza  a  simple  sentence. 

What  kinds  of  sentences  are  the  third  and  fourth  stanzas? 


59.  —  THE     "ARIEL"     AMONG    THE     SHOALS. 

PA  RT     I. 


pervad'ed,  overspread. 

pro  dlg'l^tts,  (did'jiis),  wonder- 


lu'tion,  movement. 
•e6m'pli  -eat  ed.,   having  parts 

difficult  to  understand. 
mo  n6t'o  nfcjtis,  unvaried;  dull. 


ap'a  thy,  unconcerned. 

•eoun'  ter  mand',  oppose;  or- 


ob  tr\id'ed,  thrust. 
par' a  lyz^d,  deprived  of  motion. 
Sx'tri  -eat^,  free;  relieve. 
pre  9l§'ion  (sizh'iin),  exactness. 


The  last  rope  was  coiled  and  deposited  in  its 
proper  place  by  the  seamen,  and  for  several  min- 
utes the  stillness  of  death  pervaded  the  crowded 


262  FIFTH    READER. 

decks.  It  was  evident  to  every  one  that  the  ship 
was  dashing  at  a  prodigious  rate  through  the  waves ; 
and  as  she  was  approaching  with  such  velocity  the 
quarter  of  the  bay  where  the  shoals  and  dangers 
were  known  to  be  situated,  nothing  but  the  habit 
of  the  most  exact  discipline  could  suppress  the  un- 
easiness of  the  officers  and  men  within  their  own 
bosoms.  At  length  the  voice  of  Captain  Munson 
was  heard  calling  to  the  pilot. 

"  Shall  I  send  a  hand  into  the  chains,  Mr.  Q-ray," 
he  said,  "and  try  our  water?" 

"Tack  your  ship,  sir;  tack  your  ship;  I  would 
see  how  she  works  before  we  reach  the  point  where 
she  must  behave  well,  or  we  perish." 

Griffith  gazed  after  him  in  wonder,  while  the 
pilot  slowly  paced  the  quarter-deck,  and  then,  rous- 
ing from  his  trance,  gave  forth  the  cheering  order 
that  called  every  man  to  his  station  to  perform  the 
desired  evolution.  The  confident  assurance  which 
the  young  officer  had  given,  to  the  pilot  respecting 
the  quality  of  his  vessel,  and  his  own  ability  to 
manage  her,  were  fully  realized  by  the  result. 

The  helm  was  no  sooner  put  alee,N  than  the  huge 
ship  bore  up  gallantly  against  the  wind,  and,  dash- 
ing directly  through  the  waves,  threw  the  foam 
high  into  the  air  as  she  looked  boldly  into  the 
very  eye  of  the  wlnd,N  and  then,  yielding  grace- 
fully to  its  power,  she  fell  off  on  the  other  tack 
•with  her  head  pointed  from  those  dangerous  shoals 
that  she  had  so  recently  approached  with  such  ter- 
rifying velocity. 

The  heavy  yards  swung  round  as  if  they  had 
been  vanes  to  indicate  the  currents  of  the  air,  and, 
in  a  few  moments,  the  frigate  again  moved  with 


FIFTH    READER.  263 

stately  progress  through  the  water,  leaving  the 
rocks  and  shoals  behind  her  on  one  side  of  the 
bay,  but  advancing  toward  those  that  offered  equal 
danger  on  the  other. 

During  this  time  the  sea  was  becoming  more 
agitated,  and  the  violence  of  the  wind  was  gradu- 
ally increasing.  The  latter  no  longer  whistled 
among  the  cordage  of  the  vessel,  but  it  seemed  to 
howl  surlily  as  it  passed  the  complicated  machinery 
that  the  frigate  obtruded  in  its  path.  An  endless 
succession  of  white  surges  rose  above  the  heavy 
billows,  and  the  very  air  was  glittering  with  the 
light  that  was  disengaged  from  the  ocean  and 
sparkled  in  her  wake. 

The  ship  yielded  every  moment  more  and  more 
before  the  storm,  and,  in  less  than  half  an  hour 
from  the  time  that  she  had  lifted  her  anchor,  she 
was  driven  along  with  tremendous  fury  by  the  full 
power  of  a  gale  of  wind.  Still  the  hardy  and  ex- 
perienced mariners  who  directed  her  movements 
held  her  to  the  course  that  was  necessary  to  their 
preservation,  and  still  Griffith  gave  forth,  when 
directed  by  their  unknown  pilot,  those  orders  that 
turned  her  in  the  narrow  channel  where  safety  was 
alone  to  be  found. 

So  far  the  performance  of  his  duty  seemed  easy 
to  the  stranger,  and  he  gave  the  required  direc- 
tions in  those  still,  calm  tones  that  formed  so  re- 
markable a  contrast  to  the  responsibility  of  his 
situation.  But  when  the  land  was  becoming  dim, 
in  distance  as  well  as  in  darkness,  and  the  agitated 
sea  was  only  to  be  discovered  as  it  swept  by  them 
in  foam,  he  broke  in  upon  the  monotonous  roaring 
of  the  tempest,  with  the  sounds  of  his  voice,  seem- 


264  FIFTH    READER. 

ing  to  shake  off  his  apathy,  and  rouse  himself  to 
the  occasion. 

"Now  is  the  time  to  watch  her  closely,  Mr. 
Griffith,"  he  cried ;  "  here  we  get  the  true  tide  and 
the  real  danger.  Place  the  best  quarter-master N  in 
your  ship  in  those  chains,  and  let  an  officer  stand 
by  him  and  see  that  he  gives  us  the  right  water." 

"  I  will  take  that  office  on  myself,"  said  the  cap- 
tain ;  "  pass  a  light  into  the  weather  main-chains ! " 

"Stand  by  your  braces!"  exclaimed  the  pilot  with 
startling  quickness.  "  Heave  away  that  lead  !  " 

These  preparations  taught  the  crew  to  expect 
the  crisis,  and  every  officer  and  man  stood  in  fear- 
ful silence,  at  his  assigned  station,  awaiting  the 
issue  of  the  trial.  Even  the  quarter-master  gave 
out  his  orders  to  the  men  at  the  wheel  in  deeper 
and  hoarser  tones  than  usual,  as  if  anxious  not  to 
disturb  the  quiet  and  order  of  the  vessel. 

While  this  deep  expectation  pervaded  the  frigate, 
the  piercing  cry  of  the  leadsman,  as  he  called, 
"By  the  mark,  seven !"N  rose  above  the  tempest, 
crossed  over  the  decks,  and  appeared  to  pass  away 
to  leeward,  borne  on  the  blast  like  the  warnings  of 
some  water-spirit. 

"  'Tis  well,"  returned  the  pilot  calmly ;  "  try  it 
again." 

The  short  pause  was  succeeded  by  another  cry, 
"And  a  half-five!" 

"  She  shoals  !  she  shoals  !  "  exclaimed  Griffith  ; 
"  keep  her  a  good  full !  " 

"Ay,  you  must  hold  the  vessel  in  command 
now,"  said  the  pilot,  with  those  cool  tones  that  are 
most  appalling  in  critical  moments,  because  they 
seem  to  denote  most  preparation  and  care. 


FIFTH    READER.  265 

The  third  call  of  "By  the  deep  four!"  was  fol- 
lowed by  a  prompt  direction  from  the  stranger  to 
tack. 

Griffith  seemed  to  emulate  the  coolness  of  the 
pilot,  in  issuing  the  necessary  orders  to  execute 
this  maneuver. 

The  vessel  rose  slowly  from  the  inclined  position 
into  which  she  had  been  forced  by  the  tempest, 
and  the  sails  were  shaking  violently,  as  if  to  release 
themselves  from  their  confinement,  while  the  ship 
stemmed  the  billows,  when  the  well-known  voice 
of  the  sailing-master  was  heard  shouting  from  the 
forecastle— "Breakers,  breakers,  dead  ahead!" 

This  appalling  sound  seemed  yet  to  be  lingering 
about  the  ship,  when  a  second  voice  cried  —  "Break- 
ers on  our  lee-bow  ! " 

"We  are  in  a  bight  of  the  shoals,  Mr.  Gray,"  said 
the  commander;  "she  loses  her  way;  perhaps  an 
anchor  might  hold  her." 

"Clear  away  that  best  bower!"  shouted  Griffith 
through  his  trumpet. 

"Hold  on!"  cried  the  pilot,  in  a  voice  that 
reached  the  very  hearts  of  all  who  heard  him; 
"hold  on  every  thing!" 

The  young  man  turned  fiercely  to  the  daring 
stranger  who  thus  defied  the  discipline  of  his  vessel, 
and  at  once  demanded— "Who  is  it  that  dares  to 
countermand  my  orders?  Is  it  not  enough  that 
you  run  the  ship  into  danger,  but  you  must  ^.nter- 
fere  to  keep  her  there?  If  another  word " 

"Peace,  Mr.  Griffith,"  interrupted  the  captain, 
bending  from  the  rigging,  his  gray  locks  blowing 
about  in  the  wind,  and  adding  a  look  of  wildness 
to  the  haggard  care  that  he  exhibited  by  the  light 


266  FIFTH    READER. 

of  his  lantern;  "yield  the  trumpet  to  Mr.  Q-ray; 
he  alone  can  save  us." 

Griffith  threw  his  speaking-trumpet  on  the  deck, 
and,  as  he  walked  proudly  away,  muttered  in  bit- 
terness of  feeling,  "Then  all  is  lost  indeed,  and 
among  the  rest  the  foolish  hopes  with  which  I 
visited  this  coast." 

There  was,  however,  no  time  for  reply;  the  ship 
had  been  rapidly  running  into  the  wind,  and,  as 
the  efforts  of  the  crew  were  paralyzed  by  the  con- 
tradictory orders  they  had  heard,  she  gradually  lost 
her  way,  and  in  a  few  seconds  all  her  sails  were 
taken  aback. 

Before  the  crew  understood  their  situation,  the 
pilot  had  applied  the  trumpet  to  his  mouth,  and, 
in  a  voice  that  rose  above  the  tempest,  he  thun- 
dered forth  his  orders.  Each  command  was  given 
distinctly,  and  with  a  precision  that  showed  him 
to  be  a  master  of  his  profession.  The  helm  was 
kept  fast,  the  head-yards  swung  up  heavily  against 
the  wind,  and  the  vessel  was  soon  whirling  around 
on  her  keel  with  a  backward  movement. 

Griffith  was  too  much  of  a  seaman  not  to  per- 
ceive that  the  pilot  had  seized,  with  a  perception 
almost  intuitive,  the  only  method  that  promised 
to  extricate  the  vessel  from  her  situation.  He  was 
young,  impetuous,  and  proud;  but  he  was  also 
generous.  Forgetting  his  resentment,  he  rushed 
forward  among  the  men,  and,  by  his  presence  and 
example,  added  certainty  to  the  experiment.  The 
ship  fell  off  slowly  before  the  gale,  and  bowed  her 
yards  nearly  to  the  water,  as  she  felt  the  blast 
pouring  its  fury  on  her  broadside,  while  the  surly 
waves  beat  violently  against  her  stern,  as  if  in 


FIFTH    READER.  267 

reproach,  at  departing  from  her  usual  manner  of 
moving. 

The  voice  of  the  pilot,  however,  was  still  heard, 
steady  and  calm,  and  yet  so  clear  and  high  as  to 
reach  every  ear;  and  the  obedient  seamen  whirled 
the  yards  at  his  "bidding  in  despite  of  the  tempest, 
as  if  they  handled  the  toys  of  their  childhood. 

When  the  ship  had  fallen  off  dead  "before  the 
wind,  her  head-sails  were  shaken,  her  after-yards 
trimmed,  and  her  helm  shifted  before  she  had  time 
to  run  upon  the  danger  that  had  threatened,  as 
well  to  leeward  as  to  windward.  The  beautiful 
fabric,  obedient  to  her  government,  threw  her  bows 
up  gracefully  toward  the  wind  again,  and,  as  her 
sails  were  trimmed,  moved  out  from  among  the 
dangerous  shoals  in  which  she  had  been  surrounded, 
as  steadily  and  swiftly  as  she  had  approached  them. 


Notes.  — The  word  Ariel  (a'riel)  means  a  water-spirit ;  — also, 
a  spirit  of  the  air.  It  is  a  fit  name  for  the  beautiful  frigate 
whose  peril  is  so  graphically  described  in  these  lessons. 

Alee'  is  on  the  side  opposite  that  from  which  the  wind  blows. 

"By  the  mark,  seven"  means  that  the  depth  of  the  water  was 
seven  fathoms  or  forty-two  feet. 

Into  the  eye  of  the  wind,  or  into  the  wind's  eye,  means  in  the  exact 
direction  from  which  the  wind  blows. 

A  quarter-master  is  a  petty  officer  who  attends  to  the  helm 
and  signals,  and  works  under  the  direction  of  the  master. 

Elocution.  — Should  parts  of  this  lesson  be  read  rapidly?  — If  so, 
state  where  they  are. 

Why  do  we  speak  more  rapidly  when  excited  than  in  ordi- 
nary conversation?  What  feeling  is  the  cause  of  the  excitement 
in  the  present  instance  ? 

Language.  — All  name-words  (nouns)  and  pronouns  indicating 
persons  possess  gender,  and  are  said  to  be  masculine  or  feminine. 

We  also  attribute  the  personal  characteristic  of  gender  to  some 
objects.  It  is  customary  to  speak  of  the  sun  as  masculine  and 
of  the  moon  as  feminine. 

What  gender  is  given  to  a  ship? 


268  FIFTH    READER, 

60.  —  THE     "ARIEL"     AMONG    THE     SHOALS, 

PA  RT      II. 


b6x'  ha^l  ing,  changing  a  ship's 


course. 


pre  va\l^d',  conquered. 
por  t£nt'^\i§,  ominous. 


re  straljit',  check;  government. 


ef  f&et'u  al  ly,  thoroughly. 
tu'mult,  uproar. 
•e6n  siim'  mat^,  perfect. 
dis  tSnd'  ed,  stretched. 
dig  9ern^d'  (diz  zernd'),  st 


A  moment  of  breathless  astonishment  succeeded 
the  accomplishment  of  this  nice  maneuver,  but 
there  was  no  time  for  the  usual  expressions  of  sur- 
prise. The  stranger  still  held  the  trumpet,  and 
continued  to  lift  his  voice  amid  the  howlings  of 
the  blast,  whenever  prudence  or  skill  directed  any 
change  in  the  management  of  the  ship.  For  an 
hour  longer  there  was  a  fearful  struggle  for  their 
preservation,  the  channel  becoming  at  every  foot 
more  complicated,  and  the  shoals  thickening  around 
the  mariners  on  every  side. 

The  lead  was  cast  rapidly,  and  the  quick  eye  of 
the  pilot  seemed  to  pierce  the  darkness  with  a  keen- 
ness of  vision  that  exceeded  human  power.  It  was 
apparent  to  all  in  the  vessel  that  they  were  under 
the  guidance  of  one  who  understood  navigation 
thoroughly,  and  their  exertions  kept  pace  with 
their  reviving  confidence. 

Again  and  again  the  vessel  appeared  to  be  rush- 
ing blindly  on  shoals,  where  the  sea  was  covered 
with  foam,  and  where  destruction  would  have  been 
as  sudden  as  it  was  certain,  when  the  clear  voice  of 
the  stranger  was  heard  warning  them  of  the  danger, 
and  inciting  them  to  their  duty. 


FIFTH     READER.  269 

The  vessel  was  implicitly  yielded  to  his  govern- 
ment, and  during1  those  anxious  moments  when  she 
was  dashing  the  waters  aside,  throwing  the  spray 
over  her  enormous  yards,  every  ear  would  listen 
eagerly  for  those  sounds  that  had  obtained  a  com- 
mand over  the  crew,  which  can  only  "be  acquired, 
under  such  circumstances,  "by  great  steadiness  and 
consummate  skill. 

The  ship  was  recovering  from  the  inaction  of 
changing  her  course  in  one  of  those  critical  tacks 
that  she  had  made  so  often,  when  the  pilot,  for  the 
first  time,  addressed  the  commander  of  the  frigate, 
who  still  continued  to  superintend  the  all-impor- 
tant duty  of  the  leadsman. 

"Now  is  the  pinch,"  he  said;  "and  if  the  ship 
behaves  well,  we  are  safe— but,  if  otherwise,  all  we 
have  yet  done  will  be  useless." 

The  veteran  seaman  whom  he  addressed  left  the 
chains  at  this  portentous  notice,  and,  calling  to  his 
first  lieutenant,  required  of  the  stranger  an  ex- 
planation of  his  warning. 

"See  you  yon  light  on  the  southern  headland?" 
returned  the  pilot;  "you  may  know  it  from  the 
star  near  it  by  its  sinking,  at  times,  in  the  ocean. 
Now  observe  the  hummock,  a  little  north  of  it, 
looking  like  a  shadow  in  the  horizon— 'tis  a  hill 
far  inland.  If  we  keep  that  light  open  from  the 
hill  we  shall  do  well— but  if  not,  we  surely  go  to 
pieces." 

"  Let  us  tack  again ! "   exclaimed  the  lieutenant. 

The  pilot  shook  his  head  as  he  replied,  "There 
is  no  more  tacking  or  boxhaulingN  to  be  done  to- 
night. We  have  barely  room  to  pass  out  of  the 
shoals  on  this  course,  and  if  we  can  weather  the 


27O  FIFTH    READER. 

"Devil's  Grip,"  we  clear  their  outermost  point— but 
if  not,  as  I  said  before,  there  is  but  one  alterna- 
tive." 

"If  we  had  beaten  out  the  way  we  entered,"  ex- 
claimed Griffith,  "  we  should  have  done  well." 

"  Say,  also,  if  the  tide  would  have  let  us  do  so," 
returned  the  pilot  calmly.  "  G-entlemen,  we  must 
be  prompt ;  we  have  but  a  mile  to  go,  and  the  ship 
appears  to  fly.  That  topsail  is  not  enough  to  keep 
her  up  to  the  wind ;  we  want  both  jib  and  main- 
sail." 

"  'Tis  a  perilous  thing  to  loosen  canvas  in  such 
a  tempest ! "  observed  the  thoughtful  captain. 

"It  must  be  done,"  returned  the  collected 
stranger;  "we  perish  without.  See!  the  light  al- 
ready touches  the  edge  of  the  hummock,  the  sea 
casts  us  leeward  ! " 

"It  shall  be  done,"  cried  Griffith,  seizing  the 
trumpet  from  the  hand  of  the  pilot. 

The  orders  of  the  lieutenant  were  executed  al- 
most as  soon  as  issued,  and,  every  thing  being  ready, 
the  enormous  folds  of  the  mainsail  were  trusted 
loose  to  the  blast.  There  was  an  instant  when  the 
result  was  doubtful,  the  tremendous  threshing  of 
the  heavy  sails  seeming  to  bid  defiance  to  all  re- 
straint, shaking  the  ship  to  her  center,  but  art  and 
strength  prevailed,  and  gradually  the  canvas  was 
distended,  and  drawn  down  to  its  usual  place  by 
the  power  of  a  hundred  men.  The  vessel  yielded 
to  this  immense  addition  of  force,  and  bowed  before 
it  like  a  reed  bending  to  a  breeze.  But  the  success 
of  the  measure  was  announced  by  a  joyful  cry  from 
the  stranger  that  seemed  to  burst  from  his  inmost 
soul. 


FIFTH     READER.  271 

"She  feels  it!  She  springs  her  luff!  Observe," 
he  raid,  "the  light  opens  from  the  hummock 
already;  if  she  will  only  bear  her  canvas,  we  shall 
go  clear!" 

A  report  like  that  of  a  cannon  interrupted  his 
exclamation,  and  something  resembling  a  white 
cloud  was  seen  drifting  before  the  wind  from  the 
head  of  the  ship,  till  it  was  driven  into  the  gloom 
far  to  leeward. 

"Tis  the  jib  blown  from  the  bolt-ropes,"  said  the 
commander  of  the  frigate.  "This  is  no  time  to 
spread  light  duck— but  the  mainsail  may  stand  it 
yet." 

"The  sail  would  laugh  at  a  tornado,"  returned 
the  lieutenant;  "but  the  mast  springs  like  a  piece 
of  steel." 

"Silence  all!"  cried  the  pilot.  "ISTow,  gentlemen, 
we  shall  soon  know  our  fate.  Let  her  luff— luff 
you  can." 

This  warning  effectually  closed  all  discourse,  and 
the  hardy  mariners,  knowing  that  they  had  already 
done  all  in  the  power  of  man  to  insure  their  safety, 
stood  in  breathless  anxiety  awaiting  the  result. 
At  a  short  distance  ahead  of  them,  the  whole  ocean 
was  white  with  foam,  and  the  waves,  instead  of 
rolling  on  in  regular  succession,  appeared  to  be 
tossing  about  in  mad  gambols. 

A  single  streak  of  dark  billows,  not  half  a  cable's 
length  in  width,  could  be  discerned  running  into 
the  chaos  of  water ;  but  it  was  soon  lost  to  the 
eye  amid  the  confusion  of  the  disturbed  element. 
Along  this  narrow  path  the  vessel  moved  more 
heavily  than  before,  being  brought  so  near  to  the 
wind  as  to  keep  her  sails  touching. 


272  FIFTH     READER. 

The  pilot  silently  proceeded  to  the  wheel,  and 
with  his  own  hands  undertook  the  steerage  of  the 
ship.  ISTo  noise  proceeded  from  the  frigate  to  in- 
terrupt the  horrid  tumult  of  the  ocean,  and  she 
entered  the  channel  among  the  breakers  with  the 
silence  of  a  desperate  calmness.  Twenty  times  as 
the  foam  rolled  away  to  leeward  the  crew  were  on 
the  eve  of  uttering  their  joy,  as  they  supposed  the 
vessel  past  the  danger;  but  breaker  after  breaker 
would  still  rise  before  them,  following  one  another 
into  the  general  mass,  to  check  their  exultation. 

Occasionally  the  fluttering  of  the  sails  would  be 
heard ;  and  when  the  looks  of  the  startled  seamen 
were  turned  to  the  wheel,  they  beheld  the  stranger 
grasping  its  spokes,  with  his  quick  eye  glancing 
from  the  water  to  the  canvas.  At  length  the  ship 
reached  a  point  where  she  appeared  to  be  rushing 
directly  into  the  jaws  of  destruction,  when  suddenly 
her  course  was  changed,  and  her  head  receded 
rapidly  from  the  wind.  At  the  same  instant  the 
voice  of  the  pilot  was  heard  shouting,  "Square 
away  the  yards— in  mainsail!" 

A  general  burst  from  the  crew  echoed,  "Square 
away  the  yards ! "  and  quick  as  thought  the  frigate 
was  seen  gliding  along  the  channel  before  the  wind. 
The  eye  had  hardly  time  to  dwell  on  the  foam, 
which  seemed  like  clouds  driving  in  the  heavens, 
and  directly  the  gallant  vessel  issued  from  her 
perils,  and  rose  and  fell  on  the  heavy  waves  of  the 

open  sea. 

J.  FENIMORE  COOPER. 

Biography. — James  Fenimore  Cooper  was  born  at  Burlington, 
New  Jersey,  in  1789,  and  died  at  Cooperstown,  New  York,  in  1851. 

Cooper  entered  Yale  College  at  the  age  of  thirteen,  and  after 
pursuing  his  studies  for  three  years,  was  appointed  a  midship- 


"The  gallant  vessel  issued  from  her  perils."      (See  page  272.) 


FIFTH    READER.  273 

man  in  the  navy.  During  his  six  years'  service  at  sea,  he  ac- 
quired the  nautical  experience  of  which  he  was  to  make  such  good 
use  in  his  novels.  His  first  work,  "Precaution,"  appeared  in  1821, 
and  was  unsuccessful ;  but  in  the  following  year  he  published 
"The  Spy,"  which  at  once  established  his  reputation  as  a  novelist. 
His  principal  works  are :  "The  Pioneers,"  "The  Pilot,"  "The 
Last  of  the  Mohicans,"  and  "  The  Red  Rover." 

Notes.  —  Boxhauling  is  the  act  of  going  from  one  tack  to 
another,  by  bracing  the  yards  aback. 

Language.— A  large  number  of  complex  words  have  been  taken 
from  the  Latin.  G-reek,  and  other  languages.  Many  of  these  do 
not  appear  in  their  separate  parts  in  English,  and  their  mean- 
ing must  be  obtained  by  seeking  out  their  parts  in  the  language 
from  which  they  are  derived.  Words  like  emit,  prefer,  etc.,  do 
not  appear  in  their  separate  parts,  yet  their  meaning  is  easily 
found  out. 

Illustrations.  —  Emit  is  composed  of  the  stem  mit  (Latin  mittere, 
to  send)  and  the  prefix  e  (Latin  e  or  ex,  from  or  out):  the  word 
therefore  means  to  send  out.  Prefer,  stem  fer  (Latin  ferre,  to 
place  or  bear),  prefix  pre  (Latin  pre,  before) :  the  meaning  of  prefer, 
therefore,  is  to  place  before,  consider  better. 


.  —  THE     SONG    OF    STEAM. 


eow'er,  bend  with  fear 

make. 
de  -ere^d',  ordered. 

,  grows  dim. 

It^,  a  kind  of  hard  rock. 


(bel'liis),  an  instru- 
ment for  sending  air  through  a 
tube. 

na'vy,  ships  of  war;  a  fleet. 

pO.'  ny,  small  and  feeble. 


Harness  me  down  with,  your  iron  bands ; 

Be  sure  of  your  curb  and  rein ; 
For  I  scorn  the  power  of  your  puny  hands, 

As  the  tempest  scorns  a  chain ! 
How  I  laughed  as  I  lay  concealed  from  sight, 

For  many  a  countless  hour, 
At  the  childish  boast  of  human  might, 

And  the  pride  of  human  power ! 


274  FIFTH    READER. 

When  I  saw  an  army  upon  the  land, 

A  navy  upon  the  seas, 
Creeping  along,  a  snail-like  band, 

Or  waiting  the  wayward  "breeze  ; 
When  I  marked  the  peasant  fairly  reel 

With  the  toil  which  he  faintly  bore, 
As  he  feebly  turned  the  tardy  wheel, 

Or  tugged  at  the  weary  oar; 

When  I  measured  the  panting  courser's  speed, 

The  flight  of  the  courier  dove,N 
As  they  bore  the  law  a  king  decreed, 

Or  the  lines  of  impatient  love— 
I  could  not  but  think  how  the  world  would  feel, 

As  these  were  outstripped  afar, 
When  I  should  be  bound  to  the  rushing  keel, 

Or  chained  to  the  flying  car! 

Ha,  ha,  hal  they  found  me  out  at  last, 
They  invited  me  forth  at  length, 

And  I  rushed  to  my  throne  with  a  thunder-blast, 
And  laughed  in  my  iron  strength  ! 

O,  then  ye  saw  a  wondrous  change 
On  the  earth  and  ocea^  wide, 

Where  now  my  fiery  armies  range, 
wait  for  wind  and  tide  1 


Hurra!   hurra!   the  waters  o'er; 

The  mountain's  steep  decline  ; 
Time—  space—  have  yielded  to  my  power, 

The  world—  the  world  is  mine! 
The  rivers  the  sun  hath  earliest  blest, 

Or  those  where  his  beams  decline  ; 
The  giant  streams  of  the  queenly  west, 

And  the  orient  floods  N  divine. 


FIFTH    READER.  275 

The  ocean  pales  where'er  I  sweep 

To  hear  my  strength  rejoice, 
And  the  monsters  of  the  briny  deep 

Cower,  trembling  at  my  voice. 
I  carry  the  wealth  and  the  lord  of  earth, 

The  thoughts  of  his  god-like  mind ; 
The  wind  lags  after  my  flying  forth, 

The  lightning  is  left  behind. 

In  the  darksome  depths  of  the  fathomless  mine 

My  tireless  arm  doth  play, 
Where  the  rocks  ne'er  saw  the  sun's  decline, 

Or  the  dawn  of  the  glorious  day. 
I  bring  earth's  glittering  jewels  up 

From  the  hidden  cave  below, 
And  I  make  the  fountain's  granite  cup 

With  a  crystal  gush  o'erflow. 

I  blow  the  bellows,  I  forge  the  steel, 

In  all  the  shops  of  trade ; 
I  hammer  the  ore  and  turn  the  wheel 

Where  my  arms  of  strength  are  made. 
I  manage  the  furnace,  the  mill,  the  mint, 

I  carry,  I  spin,  I  weave ; 
And  all  my  doings  I  put  into  print 

On  every  Saturday  eve. 

I've  no  muscles  to  weary,  no  breast  to  decay, 

No  bones  to  be  "  laid  on  the  shelf," 
And  soon  I  intend  you  may  "go  and  play," 

While  I  manage  this  world  myself. 
But  harness  me  down  with  your  iron  bands, 

Be  sure  of  your  curb  and  rein : 
For  I  scorn  the  strength  of  your  puny  hands, 

As  the  tempest  scorns  a  chain ! 


276 


FIFTH     READER. 


Notes.  — Capt.  George  W.  Cutter,  tlie  author  of  this  poem,  is 
known  also  as  the  writer  of  "  Buena  Vista,"  and  "The  Song  of 
the  Lightning." 

A  courier-dove,  or  carrier-pigeon,  is  a  variety  of  the  domestic 
pigeon  used  to  convey  letters  from  place  to  place. 

Orient  floods  means  the  seas  or  oceans  in  the  eastern  hemi- 
sphere. 

The  last  two  lines  of  the  eighth  stanza  refer  to  the  printing 
of  weekly  newspapers. 

Elocution.  — The  tone  of  voice,  rate,  and  force  for  the  rendering 
of  this  lesson  should  be  in  keeping  with  the  lively  and  "boastful 
utterances  attributed  to  steam. 

Language.  —  If  "flying-car"  means  a  railway  car,  what  figure 
is  used? 

To  what  do  "curb  and  rein"  properly  refer?  Name  the  figure 
contained  in  the  words  as  employed  in  the  lesson. 

Explain  the  meaning  of  "G-iant  streams  of  the  queenly  west," 
and  of  "Fiery  armies." 

In  third  stanza,  the  use  of  "keel"  for  boat  is  an  example  of 
what  figure? 

What  figure  is  used  in  relation  to  steam  throughout  the  poem? 


62.— THE    FIRST    SHIP    OF    PETER    THE    GREAT. 


as'tro  lab^,  an  instrument  for 
observing  the  position  of  the  stars. 

s£x'  tant,  an  instrument  of  reflec- 
tion for  measuring  angular  dis- 
tances between  objects,  especially 
at  sea. 

siib'urb,  region  just  outside  a 
city. 

de  fl'cient,  wanting;  imperfect. 


for  ti  fi  -ea'tion,  the  art  of  erect- 


es  tales',  possessions. 

•ea\k^d  (kawkt),  filled  the  seams 

'of. 

ex  tdrt'ed,  forced. 
an  ni  ver'  sa  ry,  yearly  celebra- 
tion of  a  day  or  extent. 
in  jiin-e'tion§,  orders. 


Peter  the  G-reat,N  of  Russia,  while  a  youth.,  had 
heard  somewhere,  that  in  foreign  countries  people 
had  an  instrument  by  which  distance  could  be 
measured  without  moving  from  the  spot. 

When  Prince  Jacob  Dolgoruki N  was  about  to  start 
on  his  mission  to  France,  and  came  to  take  his  leave, 
Pater  told  him  of  this  wonderful  instrument,  and 


FIFTH    READER.  277 

begged  him  to  procure  Mm  one  while  abroad.  Dol- 
goruki  told  Mm  that  lie  himself  had  once  had  one, 
which  was  given  Mm  as  a  present,  but  it  had  been 
stolen,  and  that  he  would  certainly  not  forget  to 
bring  one  home. 

On  Dolgoruki's  return  in  May,  1688,  the  first 
question  of  Peter  was  whether  he  had  fulfilled  his 
promise;  and  great  was  the  excitement  as  the  box 
was  opened  and  a  parcel,  containing  an  astrolabe 
and  a  sextant,  was  eagerly  unwrapped.  But,  alas ! 
when  they  were  brought  out,  no  one  knew  the  use 
of  them.  Dolgoruki  scratched  his  head,  and  said 
that  he  had  brought  the  instruments,  as  directed, 
but  it  had  never  occurred  to  him  to  ask  how  they 
were  used. 

In  vain  Peter  sought  some  one  who  knew  how 
to  use  the  sextant.  At  last  his  new  doctor  told  him 
that  in  the  German  suburb  he  knew  of  a  man  well 
skilled  in  mechanics — Franz  Timmermann,  a  Dutch 
merchant,  who  had  settled  in  Moscow,  and  who  had 
a  certain  amount  of  education.  Timmermann  was 
brought  next  day.  He  looked  at  the  instrument, 
and,  after  a  long  inspection,  finally  said  he  could 
show  how  it  was  used. 

Immediately  he  measured  the  distance  to  a 
neighboring  house.  A  man  was  at  once  sent  to 
pace  it,  and  found  the  measurement  correct.  Peter 
was  delighted,  and  asked  to  be  instructed  in  the 
use  of  the  new  instrument.  Timmermann  said : 
"With  pleasure;  but  you  must  first  learn  arith- 
metic and  geometry."  Peter  had  once  begun  study- 
ing arithmetic,  but  was  deficient  in  its  full  knowl- 
edge. He  did  not  even  know  how  to  subtract  or 
divide. 


278  FIFTH    READER. 

He  now  set  to  work  witli  a  will,  and  spent  his 
leisure  time,  "both  day  and  night,  over  his  copy- 
books. Q-eometry  led  to  geography  and  fortification. 
The  old  globe  of  his  school-room  was  sent  for  re- 
pairs, and  he  had,  besides,  the  one  in  metal  pre- 
sented to  his  father,  which  is  still  shown  in  the 
treasury  at  Moscow. 

From  this  time  Timmermann  became  one  of 
Peter's  constant  companions,  for  he  was  a  man 
from  whom  something  new  could  always  be  learned. 
A  few  weeks  later,  in  June,  1688,  as  Peter  was  wan- 
dering about  one  of  his  country  estates,  he  pointed 
to  an  old  building  in  the  flax-yard,  and  asked  one 
of  his  attendants  what  it  was. 

"A  store-house,"  replied  the  man,  "where  all  the 
rubbish  was  put  that  was  left  after  the  death  of 
Ivan  Romanoff, N  who  used  to  live  here." 

With  the  natural  curiosity  of  a  boy,  Peter  had 
the  doors  opened,  went  in,  and  looked  about.  There, 
in  one  corner,  turned  bottom  upward,  lay  a  boat, 
yet  not  in  any  way  like  those  flat-bottomed,  square- 
sterned  boats  which  he  had  seen  on  the  river 
Moskwa. 

"What  is  that?"  he  asked. 

"That  is  an  English  boat,"  said  Timmermann. 

"What  is  it  good  for?  Is  it  better  than  our 
boats?"  asked  Peter. 

"If  you  had  sails  to  it,  it  would  go  not  only 
with  the  wind,  but  against  the  wind,"  replied  Tim- 
mermann. 

"  How  against  the  wind  ?  Is  it  possible  ?  Can 
that  be  possible?" 

Peter  wished  to  try  it  at  once.  But,  after  Tim- 
mermann had  looked  at  the  boat  on  all  sides,  it  was 


FIFTH    READER.  279 

found  to  be  too  rotten  for  use ;  it  would  need  to 
be  repaired  and  tarred,  and,  besides  that,  a  mast  and 
sails  would  have  to  be  made.  Timmermann  at  last 
thought  he  could  find  a  man  capable  of  doing  this, 
and  sent  for  a  certain  Carsten  Brandt,  who  had 
been  brought  from  Holland  about  1660  by  the  Czar 
Alexis,  for  the  purpose  of  constructing  vessels  on 
the  Caspian  Sea. 

The  old  man  looked  over  the  boat,  calked  it,  put 
in  the  mast,  arranged  the  sail,  and  then  launched 
it  on  the  river. 

There,  before  Peter's  eyes,  he  began  to  sail  up 
and  down  the  river,  turning  now  to  the  right  and 
then  to  the  left.  Peter's  excitement  was  intense. 
He  called  out  to  him  to  stop,  jumped  in,  and  him- 
self began  to  manage  the  boat  under  Brandt's 
directions. 

It  was  hard  for  the  boat  to  turn,  for  the  river 
was  narrow,  and  the  water  was  too  shallow.  Peter 
eagerly  asked  where  a  broader  piece  of  water  could 
be  found,  and  was  told  of  a  small  lake  near  by. 
The  boat  was  dragged  overland  to  the  lake.  It 
went  better,  but  still  not  to  his  satisfaction. 

At  last  Peter  found  that  about  fifty  miles  away 
there  was  a  good  large  lake,  where  he  would  have 
plenty  of  room  to  sail.  It  was  not,  however,  so 
easy  for  Peter  to  get  there.  It  was  not  customary 
for  the  Czars  or  members  of  their  family  to  make 
journeys  without  some  recognized  object,  and  what 
should  a  boy  of  this  age  do  so  far  away,  and  alone  ? 

An  idea  struck  Peter.  It  was  then  June,  and 
there  was  a  great  festival  at  the  Troitsa  Monastery.N 
He  asked  his  mother's  permission  to  go  to  Troitsa 
to  attend  the  festival,  and  as  soon  as  the  religious 


28O  FIFTH    READER. 

service  was  over,  he  drove  as  fast  as  lie  could  to  the 
lake. 

But  he  soon  learned  that  there  was  no  boat 
there,  and  he  knew  that  it  was  too  far  to  bring 
the  little  English  boat.  Anxiously  he  asked  Brandt 
whether  it  were  not  possible  to  build  some  boats 
there. 

"Yes,  sire,"  said  Brandt,  "but  we  shall  require 
many  things." 

"  Ah,  well !  that  is  of  no  consequence,"  said  Peter. 
"We  can  have  any  thing." 

•  And  he  hastened  back  to  Moscow  with  his  head 
full  of  visions  of  ship-building.  He  scarcely  knew 
how  to  manage  it,  because  in  order  to  engage  in 
such  a  work  at  the  lake  would  require  his  living 
there  for  some  time,  and  he  knew  that  it  would  be 
hard  to  bring  his  mother  to  consent  to  this. 

At  last  he  extorted  this  consent.  He  hastened  off, 
together  with  Carsten  Brandt  and  a  ship-builder 
named  Kort,  an  old  comrade  whom  Brandt  had  suc- 
ceeded in  finding  at  Moscow.  Timmermann,  proba- 
bly, also  accompanied  him. 

Fast  as  Peter  and  his  comrades  worked  together 
—for  he  had  remained  with  them  in  the  woods— 
there  was  so  much  to  do  in  the  preparation  of  tim- 
ber, in  the  construction  of  huts  to  live  in,  and  in 
the  building  of  a  dock  from  which  to  launch  the 
boats,  that  it  came  time  for  Peter  to  return  long 
before  any  boat  was  ready,  and  there  was  no  sign 
that  any  could  be  completed  before  winter  set  in. 

Peter's  mother  had  grown  anxious  about  her  son. 
He  had  been  away  nearly  a  month,  and  political 
affairs  were  taking  a  serious  turn.  Much  to  his  re- 
gret, therefore,  Peter  went  back  to  Moscow  to  cele- 


FIFTH    READER.  281 

brate  his  mother's  name's-day,N  on  September  6,  leav- 
ing his  faithful  Dutchmen  strict  injunctions  to  do 
their  utmost  to  have  the  boats  ready  by  the  fol- 
lowing spring. 

The  place  chosen  by  Peter  for  his  ship-building, 
was  on  the  east  side  of  the  lake.  The  only  evi- 
dences still  remaining  of  Peter's  visit  are  the  site 
of  a  church  there,  dedicated  to  the  Virgin  of  the 
Ships,*  and  the  decaying  remains  of  some  piles 
under  water,  which  apparently  formed  the  founda- 
tion of  the  wharf  or  landing-place. 

The  boat  which  Peter  discovered  on  his  estate 
is  thought  by  many  to  have  been  constructed  in 
Russia  by  Dutch  carpenters  in  1688,  during  the 
reign  of  the  Czar  Alexis.  By  others  it  is  supposed 
to  be  a  boat  sent  by  Queen  Elizabeth  to  the  Czar 
Ivan,  the  Terrible. 

Ever  since  Peter's  time  it  has  borne  the  name 
of  the  "Grandsire  of  the  Russian  Fleet,"  and  is  pre- 
served with  the  greatest  care  in  a  small  brick 
building  near  the  Cathedral  of  Sts.  Peter  and  Paul, 
within  the  fortress  at  St.  Petersburg.  In  18  TO,  on 
the  celebration  of  the  200th  anniversary  of  Peter's 
birth,  it  was  one  of  the  chief  objects  of  interest  in 
the  great  parade  at  St.  Petersburg ;  and  again,  in 
1872,  it  was  conveyed  with  much  pomp  and  solem- 
nity to  Moscow,  where,  for  a  time,  it  formed  a  part 
of  a  great  exhibition  in  that  city. 

EUGENE  SCHUYLER. 

Notes.  — This  selection  is  from  a  "Life  of  Peter  the  Great." 
Peter  the  Great,  or  Peter  I.,  of  Russia,  was  born  at  Moscow  in 
1672,  and  died  in  St.  Petersburg  in  1725.  He  was  the  originator 
of  the  Russian  navy,  the  founder  of  St.  Petersburg,  and  one  of 
the  most  renowned  rulers  the  world  has  ever  produced.  Some 
portions  of  his  life  were  full  of  romance,  and  his  visits  to  other 


282  FIFTH    READER. 


countries  were  performed  for  the  purpose  of  acquiring  such,  in- 
formation as  would  be  of  great  benefit  to  Russia. 

Dolgoruki  is  pronounced  dol'goru'k'i;  Ivan  Romanoff,  ivan' 
ro  ma/  nof. 

A  mon'aster'y  is  the  residence  of  a  body  of  men  who  have  bound 
themselves  by  vows  to  the  performance  of  certain  religious  prac- 
tices. 

Name's-day  means  the  feast  of  the  Saint  whose  name  one 
bears. 

Virgin,  of  the  Ships  was  a  title  given  the  "Virgin  Mary,  as  if 
invoking  her  protection  over  the  new  Russian  navy. 

Language.— Instead  of  wished  in  the  sentence— "He  wished  to 
go, "  use  in  turn,  each  of  the  following  words :  desired,  requested, 
longed. 

Explain  the  exact  meaning  of  each  of  the  words  used. 

Words  which  are  nearly  alike  in  signification  and  can  be  used 
to  express  the  same  general  meaning  are  called  syn'onyms. 


rawt),  worked. 
inefficient  (fish'ent),  useless; 


#<?.  — MY     FIRST     DAY     IN    THE     QUARRY. 

trans  mu  ta'tion,  change. 

plum'  met,  a  piece  of  lead  at- 
tached to  a  line  used  in  sound- 

f  Is'  sur^s.  (fish'urg),  clefts.  ing  the  depth  of  water. 

ver  mil'  ion  (yun),  bright  red  Sx'qui  §It^  (eks'kwi  zit),  keen; 

s£n  ti  mSnt'al,  romantic. 
fdr'mi  da  b%  dreadful. 


stra'tum  (plural,  stra'ta),  layer. 

It  was  twenty  years  last  February  since  I  set  out, 
a  little  before  sunrise,  to  make  my  first  acquaintance 
with  a  life  of  labor  and  restraint;  and  I  have  rarely 
had  a  heavier  heart  than  on  that  morning.  I  was 
but  a  slim,  loose-jointed  boy  at  that  time,  fond  of 
the  fanciful  visions  of  romance,  and  of  dreaming 
when  broad  awake;  and,  woful  change!  I  was  now 
going  to  work  at  what  Burns  N  has  referred  to  in  his 
"Twa  Dogs"N  as  one  of  the  most  disagreeable  of  all 
employments, — to  work  in  a  quarry. 


FIFTH    READER  283 

Excepting  the  passing  uneasiness  occasioned  by  a 
few  gloomy  forebodings,  the  portion  of  my  life 
which  had  already  gone  by  had  been  happy  beyond 
the  common  lot.  I  had  been  a  wanderer  among 
rocks  and  woods,  a  reader  of  curious  books  when  I 
could  get  them,  a  gleaner  of  old  traditionary  stories ; 
and  now  I  was  going  to  exchange  all  my  day-dreams 
and  all  my  amusements,  for  the  kind  of  life  in 
which  men  toil  every  day  that  they  may  be  enabled 
to  eat,  and  eat  every  day  that  they  may  be  enabled 
to  toil. 

The  quarry  in  which  I  wrought  lay  on  the  south- 
ern shore  of  a  noble  inland  bay,  with  a  little  clear 
stream  on  the  one  side,  and  a  thick  fir  wood  on  the 
other.  It  had  been  opened  in  the  old  red  sand- 
stone of  the  district,  and  was  overtopped  by  a  huge 
bank  of  clay,  which  rose  over  it  in  some  places  to 
the  height  of  nearly  thirty  feet,  and  which  at  this 
time  was  rent  and  shivered,  wherever  it  presented 
an  open  front  to  the  weather,  by  a  recent  frost. 

A  heap  of  loose  fragments,  which  had  fallen  from 
above,  blocked  up  the  face  of  the  quarry,  and  my 
first  employment  was  to  clear  them  away.  The 
use  of  the  shovel  soon  blistered  my  hands,  but 
the  pain  was  by  no  means  very  severe,  and  I 
wrought  hard  and  willingly,  that  I  might  see  how 
the  huge  strata  below,  which  presented  so  firm  and 
unbroken  a  frontage,  were  to  be  torn  up  and  re- 
moved. 

Picks,  and  wedges,  and  levers  were  applied  by 
my  brother  workmen ;  and,  simple  and  rude  as  I 
had  been  accustomed  to  regard  these  implements, 
I  found  I  had  much  to  learn  in  the  way  of  using 
them.  They  all  proved  inefficient,  however,  and  the 


284  FIFTH    READER. 

workmen  had  to  bore  into  one  of  the  inferior  strata, 
and  employ  gunpowder. 

The  process  was  new  to  me,  and  I  deemed  it  a 
highly  amusing  one ;  it  had  the  merit,  too,  of  "being 
attended  with  some  such  degree  of  danger  as  a  boat- 
ing or  rock  excursion,  and  had  thus  an  interest  in- 
dependent of  its  novelty.  We  had  a  few  capital 
blasts ;  the  fragments  flew  in  every  direction ;  and 
an  immense  mass  of  earth  came  toppling  down, 
bearing  with  it  two  dead  birds,  that  in  a  recent 
storm  had  crept  into  one  of  the  deeper  fissures,  to 
die  in  the  shelter. 

I  felt  a  new  interest  in  examining  them.  The 
one  was  a  pretty  goldfinch,  with  its  hood  of  ver- 
milion, and  its  wings  inlaid  with  the  gold  to  whicli 
it  owes  its  name,  as  unsoiled  and  smooth  as  if  it 
had  been  preserved  for  a  museum.  The  other,  a 
somewhat  rarer  bird,  of  the  woodpecker  tribe,  was 
variegated  with  light  blue  and  a  grayish  yellow. 

I  was  engaged  in  admiring  the  poor  little  things, 
more  disposed  to  be  sentimental,  perhaps,  than  if  I 
had  been  ten  years  older,  and  thinking  of  the  con- 
trast between  the  warmth  and  jollity  of  their  green 
summer  haunts,  and  the  cold  and  darkness  of  their 
last  retreat,  when  I  heard  our  employer  bidding  the 
workmen  lay  by  their  tools.  I  looked  up,  and  saw 
the  sun  sinking  behind  the  thick  fir  wood  beside 
us,  and  the  long  dark  shadows  of  the  trees  stretch- 
ing downwards  toward  the  shore. 

This  was  no  very  formidable  beginning  of  the 
course  of  life  I  had  so  much  dreaded.  To  be  sure, 
my  hands  were  a  little  sore,  and  I  felt  nearly  as 
much  fatigued  as  if  I  had  been  climbing  among  the 
rocks;  but  I  had  wrought  and  been  useful,  and  had 


FIFTH    READER.  285 

yet  enjoyed  the  day  fully  as  much  as  usual.  It  was 
no  small  matter,  too,  that  the  evening,  converted  by 
a  rare  transmutation  into  the  delicious  "b  ink  of 
rest"N  which  Burns  so  truthfully  describes,  was  all 
my  own. 

I  was  as  light  at  heart  next  morning  as  any  of 
my  brother  workmen.  There  had  been  a  hard  frost 
during  the  night,  and  it  lay  white  on  the  grass  as 
we  passed  onward  through  the  fields,  but  the  sun 
rose  in  a  clear  atmosphere,  and  the  day  mellowed, 
as  it  advanced,  into  one  of  those  delightful  days  of 
early  spring  which  give  so  pleasing  an  earnest  of 
whatever  is  mild  and  genial  in  the  better  half  of 
the  year. 

All  the  workmen  rested  at  midday,  and  I  went 
to  enjoy  my  half  hour  alone  on  a  mossy  knoll  in  the 
neighboring  wood,  which  commands  through  the 
trees  a  wide  prospect  of  the  bay  and  the  opposite 
shore.  There  was  not  a  wrinkle  on  the  water,  nor  a 
cloud  in  the  sky,  and  the  branches  were  as  moveless 
in  the  calm  as  if  they  had  been  stretched  on  canvas. 

From  a  wooded  promontory  that  extended  half 
way  across  the  bay,  there  ascended  a  thin  column 
of  smoke.  It  rose  straight  as  the  line  of  a  plummet 
for  more  than  a  thousand  yards,  and  then,  on  reach- 
ing a  thinner  stratum  of  air,  spread  out  equally  on 
every  side,  like  the  foliage  of  a  stately  tree. 

Ben  WyvisN  rose  to  the  west,  white  with  the 
yet  unwashed  snows  of  winter,  and  as  sharply  de- 
fined in  the  clear  atmosphere  as  if  all  its  sunny 
slopes  and  blue  retiring  hollows  had  been  chiseled 
in  marble.  A  line  of  snow  ran  along  the  opposite 
hills;  all  above  was  white,  and  all  below  was 
purple. 


286  FIFTH     READER. 

They  reminded  me  of  the  pretty  French  story,  in 
which  an  old  artist  is  described  as  taxing  the  in- 
genuity of  his  future  son-in-law,  by  giving  him-  as 
a  subject  for  his  pencil  a  flower-piece  composed  of 
only  white  flowers,  of  which  the  one  half  were  to 
bear  their  proper  color,  the  other  half  a  deep  purple 
hue,  and  yet  all  be  perfectly  natural;  and  how  the 
young  man  solved  the  riddle  and  gained  his  wife, 
by  introducing  a  transparent  purple  vase  into  the 
picture,  and  making  the  light  pass  through  it  so  as 
to  strike  upon  the  flowers  that  were  drooping  over 
the  edge. 

I  returned  to  the  quarry  convinced  that  a  very 
exquisite  pleasure  may  be  a  very  cheap  one,  and 
that  the  busiest  employment  may  afford  leisure 

enough  to  enjoy  it. 

HUGH    MILLER. 


Biography.  — Hugh  Miller  was  born  in  Scotland  in  1802,  and 
died  in  1856. 

When  he  was  five  years  old,  his  father  was  lost  at  sea.  From 
that  time,  his  education  was  superintended  toy  two  uncles,  one 
of  whom  taught  him  natural  history,  and  the  other,  literature. 
At  the  age  of  seventeen  years,  he  became  a  stone-mason,  which 
vocation  he  followed  until  he  was  thirty-four.  In  1829,  he  pub- 
lished a  volume,  entitled  ' '  Poems  Written  in  the  Leisure  Hours 
of  a  Journeyman  Mason,"  and  some  years  later,  "Scenes  and 
Legends  of  the  North  of  Scotland."  His  industry  as  a  student 
of  natural  history  and  his  remarkable  ability  as  a  writer  were 
publicly  acknowledged  by  the  British  Association  in  1840,  the 
same  year  that  he  became  editor  of  the  Edinburgh  "Witness." 
Owing  to  overwork,  his  mind  gave  way  and  he  died  in  1856. 

Miller's  principal  works  are  :  "Old  Bed  Sandstone,"  "My  Schools 
and  School-masters,"  and  "Testimony  of  the  Bocks." 

Notes.  — "Twa  Dogs"  —  twa  meaning  two  — is  a  poem  by  Bobert 
Burns,  one  of  the  best  known  poets  of  Scotland. 

"Blink  of  rest,"  a  very  short  period  of  rest  —  blink  meaning  a 
glance. 

Ben  Wjj'vis  is  a  mountain  in  Scotland.  The  word  Ben  means 
either  mountain  or  summit. 


FIFTH     HEADER.  287 


—  MIDSUMMER. 


swatiig,  tine*  of  cut  grass. 
skttlk,  hide. 

,  motionless. 


ar7  go  si^§,  large  ships,  either  fa 
merchandise  or  war. 
stern. 


Around  this  lovely  valley  rise 

The  purple  hills  of  Paradise. 

O,  softly  on  yon  "banks  of  haze 

Her  rosy  face  the  summer  lays! 

Becalmed  along  the  azure  sky, 

The  argosies  of  Cloudland  lie, 

Whose  shores,  with  many  a  shining  rift, 

Far-off  their  pearl-white  peaks  uplift. 

Through  all  the  long  midsummer  day, 
The  meadow-sides  are  sweet  with  hay. 
I  seek  the  coolest  sheltered  seat, 
Just  where  the  fields  and  forest  meet— 
Where  grow  the  pine-trees  tall  and  bland, 
The  ancient  oaks  austere  and  grand, 
And  fringy  roots  and  pebbles  fret 
The  ripples  of  the  rivulet. 

T  watch  the  mowers  as  they  go 
Through  the  tall  grass,  a  white-sleeved  row. 
With  even  strokes  their  scythes  they  swing 
In  tune  their  merry  whetstones  ring. 
Behind,  the  nimble  youngsters  run, 
And  toss  the  thick  swaths  in  the  sun. 
The  cattle  graze,  while  warm  and  still, 
Slopes  the  "broad  pasture,  basks  the  hill, 
And  bright,  where  summer  breezes  "break, 
The  green  wheat  crinkles  like  a  lake. 


288  .  FIFTH    READER. 

The  butterfly  and  humble-bee 
Come  to  the  pleasant  woods  with  me; 
Quickly  before  me  runs  the  quail, 
Her  chickens  skulk  behind  the  rail; 
High  up  the  lone  wood-pigeon  sits, 
And  the  woodpecker  pecks  and  flits; 
Sweet  woodland  music  sinks  and  swells, 
The  brooklet  rings  its  tinkling  bells, 
The  swarming  insects  drone  and  hum, 
The  partridge  beats  his  throbbing  drum« 

The  squirrel  leaps  among  the  boughs, 

And  chatters  in  his  leafy  house; 

The  oriole  flashes  by ;  and,  look  ! 

Into  the  mirror  of  the  brook, 

Where  the  vain  bluebird  trims  his  coat, 

Two  tiny  feathers  fall  and  float. 

As  silently,  as  tenderly, 

The  down  of  peace  descends  on  me. 

O,  this  is  peace!     I  have  no  need 

Of  friend  to  talk,  of  book  to  read: 

A  dear  Companion  here  abides; 

Close  to  my  thrilling  heart  He  hides: 

The  holy  silence  is  His  voice: 

I  lie,  and  listen,  and  rejoice. 

J.  T.  TROWBRIDGE. 

Iliograpliy.  — John  Townsend  Trowbridge  was  born  at  Ogden 
New  York,  in  1827. 

In  1846,  Trowbridge  made  a  visit  to  New  York  City  and  began 
his  literary  labors.  A  year  later  he  went  to  Boston,  and  soon 
acquired  a  wide  reputation.  He  is  now  editor  of  "Our  Young 
Folks."  His  first  publication,  "Father  Brighthopes,"  appeared  In 
1853,  under  the  literary  name  of  Paul  Creyton. 

His  works  are  numerous,  and  bright  and  pleasing  in  style. 


FIFTH    READER.  289 


66.  —  AN     HEROIC     DEED. 


to'ry,  a  supporter  of  the  British 

king. 

•e6r'di  al,  hearty ;  warm. 
sym'pa  thy,  fellow-feeling. 
•e6n'ju  gal,    belonging  to  mar- 

riage. 
pa'thds,  sorrowfulness;  sadness. 


•ean  te^n§',  vessels  used  by  sol- 
diers for  carrying  water. 

ex  trav'a  gant,  wild. 

•eon  du-et'  ed,  led. 

e  qulp^d"  (kwipt),  provided; 
furnished  for  service. 

an'guish  (ang'gwlsh),  agony. 


Mr.  Jasper,  a  sergeant  in  the  Revolutionary 
Army,N  had  a  brother  who  had  joined  the  British, 
and  who  likewise  held  the  rank  of  sergeant  in 
their  garrison  at  Ebenezer,  Georgia.  ISTo  man  could 
"be  truer  to  the  American  cause  than  Sergeant 
Jasper;  yet  he  warmly  loved  his  tory  brother, 
and  actually  went  to  the  British  garrison  to  see 
him. 

His  brother  was  exceedingly  alarmed  lest  he 
should  be  seized  and  hung  as  an  American  spy; 
for  his  name  was  well  known  to  many  of  the 
British  officers.  "Do  not  trouble  yourself,"  said 
Jasper ;  "  I  am  no  longer  an  American  soldier." 

"Thank  God  for  that,  William,"  said  his  brother, 
heartily  shaking  him  by  the  hand ;  "  and  now  only 
say  the  word,  my  boy,  and  here  is  a  commission 
for  you,  with  regimentals  and  gold,  to  fight  for  his 
majesty,  King  George. "N 

Jasper  shook  his  head,  and  observed,  that  though 
there  was  but  little  encouragement  to  fight  for  his 
country,  he  could  not  find  it  in  his, heart  to  fight 
against  her.  And  there  the  conversation  ended. 
After  staying  two  or  three  days  with  his  brother, 
inspecting  and  hearing  all  that  he  could,  he  took 


29O  FIFTH    READER. 

his  leave,  returned  to  the  American  camp,  and  told 
General  Lincoln N  all  that  he  had  seen. 

jgoon  after,  he  made  another  trip  to  the  English 
garrison,  taking  with  him  his  particular  friend, 
Sergeant  Newton,  who  was  a  young  man  of  great 
strength  and  courage.  His  "brother  received  him 
with  a  cordial  greeting,  and  he  and  his  friend  spent 
several  days  at  the  British  fort,  without  giving  the 
least  alarm.  On  the  morning  of  the  third  day,  his 
brother  remarked  that  he  had  bad  news  to  tell 
him. 

"Ay?     What  is  it?"  asked  William. 

"Why,"  replied  his  brother,  "here  are  ten  or  a 
dozen  American  prisoners  brought  in  this  morning, 
as  deserters,  from  Savannah,  whither  they  are  to 
be  sent  immediately ;  and  from  what  I  can  learn 
it  will  be  apt  to  go  hard  with  them,— for  it  seems 
they  have  all  taken  the  king's  bounty.  "N 

"Let  us  see  them,"  said  Jasper.  So  his  brother 
took  him  and  his  friend  Newton  to  see  them.  It 
was  indeed  a  painful  sight  to  behold  the  poor  fel- 
lows handcuffed  upon  the  ground.  But  when  the 
eye  rested  upon  a  young  woman,  wife  of  one  of 
the  prisoners,  with  her  child,  a  sweet  little  boy 
of  five  years,  all  pity  for  the  male  prisoners  was 
forgotten. 

Her  humble  garb  showed  that  she  was  poor; 
but  her  deep  distress,  and  sympathy  with  her  un- 
fortunate husband,  proved  that  she  was  rich  in 
conjugal  love— more  precious  than  gold.  She  gen- 
erally sat  on  the  ground,  opposite  her  husband, 
with  her  little  boy  leaning  on  her  lap,  and  her 
coal-black  hair  spreading  in  long,  neglected  tresses 
on  her  neck  and  bosom. 


FIFTH    READER.  291 

Sometimes  she  would  sit  silent  as  a  statue,  her 
eyes  fixed  upon  the  earth ;  then  she  would  start 
up  with  a  convulsive  throb,  and  gaze  on  her  hus- 
band's face  with  looks  as  sad,  as  if  she  already 
saw  him  struggling  in  the  halter,  herself  a  widow, 
and  her  child  an  orphan.  The  boy,  distressed  by 
his  mother's  anguish,  added  to  the  pathos  of  the 
scene,  by  the  artless  tears  of  childish  suffering. 

Though  Jasper  and  Newton  were  undaunted  on 
the  field  of  battle,  their  feelings  were  subdued  by 
such  heart-stirring  misery.  As  they  walked  out 
into  the  neighboring  wood,  tears  stood  in  the  eyes 
of  both. 

Jasper  first  broke  the  silence.  "Newton,"  said  he, 
"my  days  have  been  but  few,  but  I  believe  their 
course  is  nearly  finished." 

"Why  so,  Jasper?" 

"Why,  I  feel  that  I  must  rescue  those  poor 
prisoners,  or  die  with  them ;  otherwise,  the  remem- 
brance of  that  poor  woman  and  her  child  will 
haunt  me  to  my  grave." 

"  That  is  exactly  the  way  I  feel,  too,"  replied  ISTew- 
ton ;  "  and  here  is  my  hand  and  heart  to  stand  by 
you,  my  brave  friend,  to  the  last  drop.  Thank 
Q-od,  a  man  can  die  but  once,  and  why  should  we 
fear  to  leave  this  life  in  the  way  of  our  duty?" 

The  friends  embraced  each  other,  and  entered 
into  the  necessary  arrangements  for  fulfilling  their 
desperate  resolution. 

Immediately  after  breakfast  the  prisoners  were 
sent  on  their  way  to  Savannah,  under  the  guard 
of  a  sergeant  and  corporal,  with  eight  men.  They 
had  not  been  gone  long,  before  Jasper,  accompanied 
by  his  friend  Newton,  took  leave  of  his  brother, 


292  FIFTH    READER. 

and  set  out  on  some  pretended  errand  to  the  upper 
country. 

They  had  scarcely,  however,  got  out  of  sight  of 
Bbenezer,  before  they  struck  into  the  woods  and 
pushed  hard  after  the  prisoners  and  their  guard, 
whom  they  closely  dogged  for  several  miles,  anx- 
iously watching  an  opportunity  to  strike  a  "blow. 
The  hope,  indeed,  seemed  extravagant ;— for  what 
could  two  unarmed  men  do  against  ten,  equipped 
with  loaded  muskets  and  bayonets?  However,  un- 
able to  give  up  their  countrymen,  our  heroes  still 
traveled  on. 

About  two  miles  from  Savannah  there  is  a  spring, 
well  known  to  travelers,  who  often  stop  there  to 
quench  their  thirst.  "Perhaps,"  said  Jasper,  "the 
guard  may  halt  there." 

Hastening  on  through  the  woods  they  gained 
the  spring,  as  their  last  hope,  and  there  concealed 
themselves  among  the  thick  bushes  that  grew 
around  it.  Presently  the  mournful  procession  came 
in  sight  of  the  spring,  where  the  sergeant  ordered 
a  halt.  Hope  sprung  afresh  in  the  breasts  of  our 
heroes,  though  no  doubt  mixed  with  great  alarm; 
for  it  was  a  fearful  odds  against  them. 

The  corporal,  with  his  guard  of  four  men,  con- 
ducted the  prisoners  to  the  spring,  while  the  ser- 
geant, with  the  other  four,  having  grounded  their 
arms  near  the  road,  brought  up  the  rear.  The 
prisoners,  wearied  with  their  long  walk,  were  per- 
mitted to  rest  themselves  on  the  earth.  Poor  Mrs. 
Jones,  as  usual,  took  her  seat  opposite  her  husband, 
and  her  little  boy,  overcome  with  fatigue,  fell  asleep 
in  her  lap. 

Two  of  the  corporal's  men  were  ordered  to  keep 


FIFTH    READER  293 

gnard,  and  the  other  two  to  give  the  prisoners  drink 
out  of  their  canteens.  These  last  approached  the 
spring,  where  our  heroes  lay  concealed,  and,  rest- 
ing their  muskets  against  a  pine-tree,  dipped  up 
water.  Having  quenched  their  thirst,  they  turned 
away  with  replenished  canteens,  to  give  to  the 
prisoners  also. 

"Now,  Newton,  is  our  time,"  said  Jasper. 

Then,  bursting  like  lions  from  their  concealment, 
they  snatched  up  the  two  muskets  that  were  resting 
against  the  pine,  and  in  an  instant  shot  down  the 
two  soldiers  who  were  upon  guard.  It  was  now  a 
contest  who  should  get  the  loaded  muskets  that  fell 
from  the  hands  of  the  slain ;  for  by  this  time  a 
couple  of  brave  Englishmen,  recovering  from  their 
momentary  panic,  had  sprung  upon  and  seized  the 
muskets;  but,  before.they  could  use  them,  the  swift- 
handed  Americans,  with  clubbed  guns,  leveled  a 
final  blow  at  the  heads  of  their  brave  antagonists. 

Down  they  sunk,  pale  and  quivering,  without  a 
groan.  Then  hastily  seizing  the  muskets,  which 
had  thus  a  second  time  fallen  from  the  hands 
of  the  slain,  they  new  between  their  surviving 
enemies,  and  their  weapons  which  were  grounded 
near  the  road,  and  ordered  them  to  surrender; 
which  they  instantly  did.  They  then  snapped  the 
handcuffs  of  the  prisoners,  and  armed  them  with 
muskets. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  fight,  poor  Mrs. 
Jones  had  fallen  to  the  earth  in  a  swoon,  and  her 
little  son  stood  screaming  piteously  over  her.  But, 
when  she  recovered,  and  saw  her  husband  and  his 
friends  freed  from  their  fetters,  she  behaved  like 
one  frantic  with  joy. 


294  FIFTH    READER. 

For  fear  of  being  retaken  by  the  English,  our 
heroes  seized  the  ^  arms  and  regimentals  of  the  dead, 
and,  with  their  friends  and  captured  foes,  re-crossed 
the  Savannah,  and  safely  joined  the  American  army, 
to  the  great  astonishment  and  joy  of  all. 

FREEMAN  HUNT. 

Biography.  —  For  a  sketch  of  the  life  of  Freeman  Hunt,  see 
page  163. 

Notes.  — The  Revolutionary  Army  -was  the  army  of  the  Amer- 
ican Colonies  at  the  time  of  the  war  with  England  in  which  the 
independence  of  the  colonies  was  achieved. 

King  George  III.  (1738-1820)*  was  king  of  England  during  the 
War  for  American  Independence. 

General  Lincoln  was  commander  of  a  small  American  army 
in  the  Southern  States.  He  was  appointed  "by  General  Washing- 
ton to  receive  the  sword  of  the  British  commander,  Lord  Corn- 
wallis,  at  the  surrender  of  Yorktown  in  1782. 

King's  bounty  was  money  paid  by  the  English  government  to 
men  who  entered  the  army  or  navy. 

Elocution.  —  In  the  description  of  *the  attack  of  Jasper  and 
Newton  upon  the  British  soldiers,  what  rate  should  be  employed? 


—ON     CONVERSATION. 


e  qulv'o  -eat^,    use    words    of 

doubtful  meaning. 
op  po'nent,  antagonist. 
per'ti  nent,  suitable. 
In'  of  f§n'  slv^,  harmless. 
•ere  du'li  ty,  easiness  of  belief. 


,  offensive. 
re  proved',  rebuked. 
e%.  as' per  at^,  provoke. 
•com  pO§'ur^  (zhur),  calmness. 
•eon  j&et'ur^  (yur),  guess. 
a  me'nd'ment,  reformation. 


Never  speak  any  thing  for  truth  which  you  know 
or  "believe  to  be  false.  Lying  is  a  great  sin  against 
God,  who  gave  us  a  tongue  to  speak  truth  and  not 
falsehood.  It  is  a  great  offense  against  humanity 

*  (1738-1820)  means  that  he  was  born  in  1738  and  died  in  1820. 


FIFTH    READER.  298 

itself.  For  where  there  is  no  regard  for  truth, 
there  can  be  no  safe  society  between  man  and  man. 
And  it  is  an  injury  to  the  speaker;  for  besides  the 
disgrace  which  it  brings  upon  him,  it  occasions  so 
much  baseness  of  mind,  that  he  can  scarcely  tell 
truth,  or  avoid  lying  even  when  he  has  no  reason 
for  it;  and  in  time  he  comes  to  such  a  pass,  that 
as  other  people  can  not  believe  he  speaks  truth,  so 
he  himself  scarcely  knows  when  he  tells  a  false- 
hood. 

As  you  must  be  careful  not  to  lie,  so  you  must 
avoid  coming  near  it.  You  must  not  equivocate, 
nor  speak  any  thing  positively  for  which  you  have 
no  authority  but  report,  or  conjecture,  or  opinion. 

Let  your  words  be  few,  especially  when  your 
superiors  or  strangers  are  present,  lest  you  betray 
your  own  weakness  and  rob  yourselves  of  the 
opportunity  which  you  might  otherwise  have  had 
to  gain  knowledge,  wisdom,  and  experience,  by 
hearing  those  whom  you  silence  by  your  imperti- 
nent talking. 

Be  not  too  earnest,  loud,  or  violent  in  your 
conversation.  Silence  your  opponent  with  reason, 
not  with  noise. 

Be  careful  not  to  interrupt  another  when  he  is 
speaking;  hear  him  out,  and  you  will  understand 
him  the  better,  and  you  will  be  able  to  give  him 
the  better  answer. 

Consider  before  you  speak,  especially  when  the 
business  is  of  moment;  weigh  the  sense  of  what 
you  mean  to  utter,  and  the  expressions  you  intend 
to  use,  that  they  may  be  significant,  pertinent,  and 
inoffensive.  Inconsiderate  persons  do  not  think  till 
they  speak;  or  they  speak  and  then  think. 


296  FIFTH    READER. 

Some  men  excel  in  husbandry,  some  in  garden- 
ing, some  in  mathematics.  In  conversation  learn, 
as  near  as  you  can,  where  the  skill  or  excellence  of 
any  person  lies.  Put  him  to  talking  upon  that 
subject;  observe  what  he  says;  keep  it  in  your 
memory,  or  commit  it  to  writing.  By  this  means 
you  will  glean  the  worth  and  knowledge  of  every- 
body you  converse  with,  and  in  an  easy  and  natural 
manner  acquire  what  may  be  of  use  to  you  on  many 
occasions. 

When  you  are  in  company  with  light,  vain,  im- 
pertinent persons,  let  the  observing  of  their  fail- 
ings make  you  the  more  cautious,  both  in  your 
conversation  with  them  and  in  your  general  be- 
havior, that  you  may  avoid  their  errors. 

If  any  one  whom  you  do  not  know  to  be  a  per- 
son of  truth,  sobriety,  and  weight,  relates  strange 
stories,  be  not  too  ready  to  believe  or  report  them; 
and  yet  be  not  too  forward  to  contradict  him.  If 
the  occasion  requires  you  to  declare  your  opinion, 
do  it  modestly  and  gently,  not  bluntly  nor  coarsely. 
By  this  means  you  will  avoid  giving  offense,  or 
being  abused  for  too  much  credulity. 

If  a  man  whose  integrity  you  do  not  very  well 
know,  makes  great  and  extraordinary  professions  to 
you,  do  not  give  too  much  credit  to  him.  Prob- 
ably you  will  find  that  he  aims  at  something  be- 
sides kindness  to  you,  and  that  when  you  have 
served  his  turn,  or  disappointed  his  hopes,  his  re- 
gard for  you  will  grow  cool. 

Beware  also  of  him  who  natters  you  and  com- 
mends you  to  your  face,  or  to  one  he  thinks  will 
tell  you  of  it.  Most  probably  he  has  either  deceived 
or  abused  you,  or  means  to  do  so.  Remember  the 


FIFTH    READER.  297 

fable  of  tlie  fox  commending  the  singing  of  the 
crow,  "because  she  had  something  in  her  mouth 
which  he  wanted. 

Be  careful  that  you  do  not  commend  yourselves. 
It  is  a  sign  that  your  reputation  is  small  and  sink- 
ing if  your  own  tongue  must  praise  you;  and  it  is 
fulsome  and  unpleasing  to  others  to  hear  such  com- 
mendation. 

Speak  well  of  the  absent  whenever  you  have  an 
available  opportunity.  Never  speak  ill  of  them  or 
of  anybody  else  unless  you  are  sure  they  deserve  it ; 
and,  not  then,  unless  it  is  necessary  for  their  amend- 
ment, or  for  the  safety  and  benefit  of  others. 

Avoid,  in  your  ordinary  communications,  not 
only  oaths,  but  all  extravagant  expressions. 

Forbear  scoffing  and  jesting  at  the  condition  or 
natural  defects  of  any  person.  Such  offenses  leave 
a  deep  impression,  and  they  often  cost  a  man  dear. 

Be  very  careful  that  you  give  no  reproachful, 
spiteful,  or  threatening  words  to  any  person.  Good 
words  make  friends,  bad  words  make  enemies.  It 
is  great  prudence  to  gain  as  many  friends  as  we 
honestly  can,  especially  when  it  may  be  done  at  so 
easy  a  rate  as  a  good  word;  and  it  is  great  folly  to 
make  an  enemy  by  ill  words,  which  are  of  no  ad- 
vantage to  the  party  who  uses  them.  When  faults 
are  committed  they  may,  and  by  a  superior  they 
must,  be  reproved;  but  let  it  be  done  without  re- 
proach or  bitterness,  otherwise  it  will  lose  its  effect, 
and,  instead  of  reforming  the  offense,  it  will  exas- 
perate the  offender,  and  lay  the  reprover  justly 
open  to  reproof. 

If  a  person  be  passionate,  and  give  you  ill  lan- 
guage, rather  pity  him  than  be  moved  to  anger. 


298  FIFTH     READER. 

You  will  find  that  silence,  or  very  gentle  words,  are 
the  most  exquisite  revenge  for  reproaches ;  they 
will  either  cure  the  ill-temper  of  an  angry  man, 
and  make  him  sorry  for  his  passion,  or  they  will 
be  a  severe  reproof  and  punishment  to  him.  But, 
at  any  rate,  they  will  preserve  your  innocence,  give 
you  the  deserved  reputation  for  wisdom  and  moder- 
ation, and  keep  up  the  serenity  and  composure  of 
your  mind.  Passion  and  anger  make  a  man  unfit 
for  every  thing  that  becomes  him  as  a  man  or  as  a 
Christian. 

Bead  these  directions  often,  think  of  them  seri- 
ously, and  practice  them  diligently.  You  will  find 
them  useful  in  your  conversation.  Their  utility 
will  every  day  be  the  more  evident  to  you  as  your 
judgment,  understanding,  and  experience  increase. 

SIR  MATTHEW  HALE. 

Biography.— Sir  Matthew  Hale  was  born  at  Alderly,  England, 
in  1609,  and  died  in  1676. 

He  was  left  an  orphan  at  an  early  age,  and  intended  to  de- 
vote himself  to  a  military  life.  This  intention  was  fortunately 
changed,  and  when  twenty  years  old,  he  began  the  practice  of 
law.  He  soon  rose  to  eminence  in  his  profession,  and  was  em- 
ployed in  some  of  the  most  important  cases  of  his  time,  one  of 
them  being  the  trial  of  King  Charles  I.  In  1671,  he  became  Chief- 
Justice  of  the  King's  Bench,  from  which  position  he  was  obliged 
by  illness  to  resign. 

He  was  a  man  of  upright  character  and  of  noted  impartiality 
as  a  judge.  While  studying  law,  the  rules  which  he  laid  down 
for  himself,  prescribed  sixteen  hours  a  day  of  close  application, 
and  prove  not  only  the  great  mental  power,  but  also  the  ex- 
traordinary physical  strength  he  must  have  possessed. 

Language.—  Notice  the  frequent  use  of  the  command  in  this 
lesson.  Does  the  reason  following  a  command  strengthen  the 
force  of  the  command? 

Are  there  any  questions  in  the  lesson  ? 

Instead  of  using  the  terms,  statement,  command,  question,  and 
exclamation,  sentences  may  be  designated  as,  declarative,  impera- 
tive, interrogative,  and  exclamatory. 


FIFTH    READER.  299 


tf/.—THE    FACE    AGAINST    THE    PANE. 

a   woman  (term  of  con- 
tempt). 
boom,  noise  made  by  a  gun. 


,  streaked. 
shaft,  column. 


'  et,  a  kind  of  fire-work. 


Mabel,  little  Mabel, 

With,  face  against  the  pane, 
Looks  out  across  the  night 
And  sees  the  Beacon   Light1* 

A-trembling  in  the  rain. 
She  hears  the  sea-birds   screech, 
And  the  breakers  on  the  beach 

Making  moan,  making  moan. 
And  the  wind  about  the  eaves 
Of  the  cottage  sobs  and  grieves; 

And  the  willow-tree  is  blown 

To  and  fro,  to  and  fro, 
Till  it  seems  like  some  old  crone 
Standing  out  there  all  alone, 

With  her  woe! 
Wringing,  as  she  stands, 
Her  gaunt  and  palsied  hands; 
While  Mabel,  timid  Mabel, 

With  face  against  the  pane, 
Looks  out  across  the  night, 
And  sees  the  Beacon  Light 

A-trembling  in  the  rain. 

Set  the  table,  maiden  Mabel, 
And  make  the  cabin  warm; 

Your  little  fisher-lover 

Is  out  there  in  the  storm; 

And  your  father— you  are  weeping! 


3OO  FIFTH    READER. 

O  Mabel,  timid  Mabel, 

Go  spread  the  supper-table, 
And  set  the  tea  a-steeping. 
Your  lover's  heart  is  brave, 

His  boat  is  stanch,  and  tight; 
And  your  father  knows  the  perilous  reef 

That  makes  the  water  white. 

But  Mabel,  Mabel  darling, 

With  face  against  the  pane, 
Looks  out  across  the  night 

At  the  Beacon  in  the  rain. 

The  heavens  are  veined  with  fire ! 

And  the  thunder,  how  it  rolls! 
In  the  hillings  of  the  storm 

The  solemn  church-bell  tolls 

For  lost  souls ! 
But  no  sexton  sounds  the  knell 

In  that  belfry  old  and  high; 
Unseen  fingers  sway  the  bell, 

As  the  wind  goes  tearing  byl 
How  it  tolls  for  the  souls 

Of  the  sailors  on  the  sea! 
God  pity  them,  Q-od  pity  them, 

Wherever  they  may  be ! 
God  pity  wives  and  sweethearts 

Who  wait  and  wait  in  vain! 
And  pity  little  Mabel, 

With  face  against  the  pane. 

A  boom!— the  light-house  gun! 

(How  its  echo  rolls  and  rolls! 
'Tis  to  warn  the  home-bound  ships 

Off  the  shoals! 


"The  heavens  are  veined    with    fire!"      (See  page  3OO.) 


FIFTH    READER.  3O1 

See !   a  rocket  cleaves  the  sky 

From  tlie  Fort— a  shaft  of  light  1 

See !   it  fades,  and,  fading,  leaves 
Golden  furrows  on  the  night ! 

What  made  Mabel's  cheek  so  pale? 

What  made  Mabel's  lips  so  white? 
Did  she  see  the  helpless  sail 

That,  tossing  here  and  there, 

Like  a  feather  in  the  air, 
Went  down  and  out  of  sight— 
Down,  down,  and  out  of  sight? 
O,  watch  no  more,  no  more, 

With  face  against  the  pane ; 
You  can  not  see  the  men  that  drown 

By  the  Beacon  in  the  rain ! 

From  a  shoal  of  richest  rubies 

Breaks  the  morning  clear  and  cold; 
And  the  angel  of  the  village  spire,N 

Frost-touched,  is  bright  as  gold. 
Four  ancient  fishermen, 

In  the  pleasant  autumn  air, 
Come  toiling  up  the  sands, 
With  something  in  their  hands,— 
Two  bodies  stark  and  white, 
Ah,  so  ghastly  in  the  light, 

With  sea-weed  in  their  hairl 

O  ancient  fishermen, 

Q-o  up  to  yonder  cot! 
You'll  find  a  little  child, 

With  face  against  the  pane, 


3O2  FIFTH    READER. 

Who  looks  toward  the  beach, 

And,  looking,  sees  it  not. 
She  will  never  watch  again! 

Never  watch  and  weep  at  night! 
For  those  pretty,  saintly  eyes 
Look  beyond  the  stormy  skies, 

And  they  see  the  Beacon  Light. 

Notes.  —  Beacon  JAght  here  means  the  light  of  a  light-house. 

The  angel  of  the  village  spire  means  the  figure  of  an  angel  used 
as  a  vane  on  the  spire  of  the  village  church. 

Elocution.  — State  the  changes  of  sentiment  that  occur  in  the 
poem,  and  how  each  part  should  be  read. 

The  repetitions—  " Making  moan,  making  moan,"  "To  and  fro, 
to  and  fro,"  should  be  rendered  in  a  slow  and  measured  manner. 

Language.  —  Point  out  and  explain  the  figure  of  comparison 
used  in  the  first  part  of  this  poem. 

Composition.  —  How  many  different  pictures  are  presented  in 
the  poem?  Arrange  the  names  of  these  pictures  in  order,  and 
state  whether  they  would  make  a  complete  analysis  of  the 
story. 


68.  —  GENEROUS    REVENGE. 


ban'ish  ment,  the  state  of  be- 
ing expelled  from  one's  country. 
•elSm'  en  9y,  mildness. 
appar'el,  clothing. 
b&n'e  fa-e'tor,  helper. 
trans' port, 
le"n'i  ty,  kindness;  humanity. 


mag'  is  tra  £y,  executive  office  of 

a  government. 

pre  dl-e'tion,  a  foretelling. 
pa  ter'nal,  fatherly. 
re  versed",  altered;  overthrown 

by  a  contrary -decision. 
dr'i  dfln,  birth;  beginning. 


Once,  when  the  Republic  of  Genoa  was  divided 
between  the  factions  of  the  nobles  and  the  people, 
Uberto,  a  man  of  low  origin,  but  of  an  elevated 
mind  and  of  superior  talents,  having  raised  him- 
self to  be  the  head  of  the  popular  party,  main- 


FIFTH    READER.  3O3 

tained  for  a  considerable  time  a  democratic  form 
of  government. 

The  nobles  at  length,  succeeded  in  changing  this 
state  of  things,  and  regained  their  former  power. 
They  used  their  victory  with  considerable  rigor; 
and,  in  particular,  having  imprisoned  Uberto,  pro- 
ceeded against  him  as  a  traitor,  and  thought,  after 
seizing  all  his  property,  that  they  displayed  suffi- 
cient lenity  in  passing  a  sentence  upon  him  of  per- 
petual banishment. 

Adorno,  who  was  then  possessed  of  the  first 
magistracy,  in  pronouncing  this  sentence  upon 
Uberto,  aggravated  its  severity  by  the  insolent 
terms  in  which  he  conveyed  it.  "You,"  said  he, 
"you,  the  son  of  a  base  mechanic,  who  have  dared 
to  trample  upon  the  nobles  of  Genoa— you,  by  their 
clemency,  are  only  doomed  to  shrink  again  into 
the  nothingness  from  which  you  sprung." 

Uberto  received  his  condemnation  with  respect- 
ful submission  to  the  court ;  yet,  stung  by  the 
manner  in  which  it  was  expressed,  he  could  not 
forbear  saying  to  Adorno,  that  perhaps  he  might 
some  time  find  cause  to  repent  the  language  he  had 
used  to  a  man  capable  of  sentiments  as  elevated  as 
his  own. 

He  went  to  settle  on  one  of  the  islands  in  the 
archipelago  belonging  to  the  state  of  Venice.  Here 
his  industry  and  capacity  in  mercantile  pursuits 
raised  him  in  the  course  of  years  to  greater  wealth 
than  he  had  possessed  in  his  most  prosperous  days 
at  Genoa;  and  his  reputation  for  honor  and  gener- 
osity equaled  his  fortune. 

Among  the  places  which  he  frequently  visited  as 
a  merchant,  was  the  city  of  Tunis,  at  that  time  in 


3O4  FIFTH    READER. 

friendship  with,  the  Venetians,*  though  hostile  to 
most  of  the  other  Italian  states,  and  especially  to 
Q-enoa. 

As  Uberto  was  on  a  visit  at  the  country  house 
of  one  of  the  first  men  of  that  place,  he  saw  a 
young  Christian  slave  at  work  in  irons,  whose  ap- 
pearance excited  his  attention.  The  youth  seemed 
oppressed  with  labor  to  which  his  delicate  frame 
had  not  been  accustomed,  and  while  he  leaned  at 
intervals  upon  the  instrument  with  which  he  was 
working,  a  sigh  burst  from  his  full  heart,  and  a 
tear  stole  down  his  cheek. 

Uberto  eyed  him  with  tender  compassion,  and 
addressed  him  in  Italian.  The  youth  eagerly  caught 
the  sounds  of  his  native  language,  and  replying 
to  the  inquiries  of  Uberto,  informed  him  that  he 
was  a  Genoese.1* 

"And  what  is  your  name,  young  man?"  said 
Uberto.  "You  need  not  be  afraid  of  confessing  to 
me  your  birth  and  education." 

"Alas!"  he  answered,  "I  fear  my  captors  already 
suspect  enough  to  demand  a  large  ransom.  My 
father  is,  indeed,  one  of  the  first  men  in  G-enoa. 
His  name  is  Adorno,  and  I  am  his  only  son." 

"  Adorno  !  "  Uberto  checked  himself  from  utter- 
ing more  aloud,  but  to  himself  he  cried,  "Thank 
heaven !  then  I  shall  be  nobly  revenged ! " 

He  took  leave  of  the  youth,  and  immediately 
went  to  inquire  after  the  corsair  captain  who 
claimed  a  right  in  young  Adorno,  and  having 
found  him,  demanded  the  price  of  his  ransom.  He 
learned  that  he  was  considered  as  a  captive  of  value, 
and  that  less  than  two  thousand  crowns N  would 
not  be  accepted. 


FIFTH    READER.  3O5 

ITberto  paid  the  sum;  and  causing  his  servant  to 
follow  him  with  a  horse  and  a  complete  suit  of 
handsome  apparel,  he  returned  to  the  .  youth,  who 
was  working-  as  "before,  and  told  him  he  was  free. 
With  his  own  hands  he  took  off  his  fetters,  and 
helped  him  to  change  his  dress,  and  mount  on 
horseback. 

The  youth  was  tempted  to  think  it  all  a  dream, 
and  emotion  almost  deprived  him  of  the  power  of 
returning  thanks  to  his  generous  benefactor.  He 
was  soon  convinced,  however,  of  the  reality  of  his 
good  fortune,  by  sharing  the  lodging  and  table  of 
Uberto. 

After  a  stay  of  some  days  at  Tunis,  Uberto  de- 
parted homeward,  accompanied  by  young  Adorno. 
Uberto  kept  him  some  time  at  his  house,  treating 
him  with  all  the  respect  and  affection  he  could 
have  shown  for  the  son  of  his  dearest  friend. 

At  length,  having  a  safe  opportunity  of  sending 
him  to  G-enoa,  he  gave  him  a  faithful  servant  for 
a  conductor,  fitted  him  out  with  every  convenience, 
slipped  a  purse  of  gold  into  one  hand  and  a  letter 
into  the  other,  and  thus  addressed  him— 

"My  dear  youth,  I  could  with  much  pleasure 
detain  you  longer  in  my  humble  mansion,  but  I 
feel  your  impatience  to  revisit  your  friends,  and  I 
am  sensible  that  it  would  be  cruelty  to  deprive 
them  longer  than  necessary  of  the  joy  they  will 
feel  in  recovering  you.  Deign  to  accept  this  pro- 
vision for  your  voyage,  and  deliver  this  letter 
to  your  father.  He  probably  may  recollect  me, 
though  you  are  too  young  to  do  so.  Farewell !  I 
shall  not  soon  forget  you,  and  I  hope  you  will 
not  forget  me."  Adorno  poured  out  his  thanks, 


3O6  FIFTH    READER. 

and  they  parted  with  many  mutual  tears  and  em- 
braces. 

The  young  man  had  a  prosperous  voyage  home; 
and  the  transport  with  which  he  was  again  beheld 
by  his  already  heart-broken  parents  may  be  more 
easily  conceived  than  described. 

After  learning  that  he  had  been  a  captive  in 
Tunis— for  it  was  supposed  that  the  ship  in  which  he 
had  sailed  had  foundered  at  sea,— the  elder  Adorno 
said,  "To  whom  am  I  indebted  for  restoring  you  to 
my  arms?"  "This  letter,"  said  his  son,  "will  inform 
you."  He  opened  it  and  read  as  follows— 

"  That  son  of  a  base  mechanic,  who  told  you  that 
one  day  you  might  repent  the  scorn  with  which 
you  treated  him,  has  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  this 
prediction  accomplished.  For  know,  proud  noble, 
that  the  deliverer  of  your  only  son  from  slavery 
is  the  banished  Uberto." 

Adorno  dropped  the  letter  and  covered  his  face 
with  his  hands,  while  his  son  was  praising,  in  the 
warmest  language  of  gratitude,  the  virtues  of 
Uberto,  and  the  truly  paternal  kindness  he  had 
received  from  him. 

As  the  debt  could  not  be  canceled,  Adorno  re- 
solved if  possible  to  repay  it.  He  made  such  great 
efforts  with  the  other  nobles,  that  the  sentence 
pronounced  against  Uberto  was  reversed,  and  full 
permission  given  him  to  return  to  Q-enoa.  In 
acquainting  him  with  this  event,  Adorno  expressed 
his  sense  of  the  obligations  he  lay  under  to  him, 
admitted  the  genuine  nobleness  of  his  character, 
and  requested  his  friendship.  Uberto  returned  to 
his  country,  and  closed  his  days  in  peace,  with  the 
universal  esteem  of  his  fellow-citizens. 


FIFTH    READER.  SO7 


Notes.  —  Genoese  and  Venetian  are  derived  from  the  words  Genoa 
and  Venice,  and  may  be  used  either  as  nouns  or  adjectives.  If 
nouns,  the  suffixes  ese  and  ian  (an)  have  the  meaning  "one  be- 
longing to,"  i.  e.,  an  inhabitant  of;  if  adjectives,  "belonging  or 
pertaining  to." 

When  used  as  adjectives,  -what  is  the  meaning  of  American, 
Irish,  Chinese,  Italian  ?  •  Name  the  suffix  in  each  word. 

Crowns  aro  Italian  coins,  each  worth  about  $1.05  in  U.  S. 
money. 

Language.  —  In  the  fifth  paragraph  "Belonging  to  the  state  of 
Venice"  is  a  phrase  limiting  "islands."  Its  introductory  word  is 
"belonging,"  a  participle  of  the  verb  "belong,"  and  having  the 
force  of  an  adjective.  The  phrase  is  therefore  an  adjective,  or,  as  it 
is  more  commonly  called,  a  participial  phrase. 

In  the  participial  phrase  given  above,  "belonging"  is  modified 
by  the  prepositional  phrase  "to  the  state  of  Venice,"  in  which  the 
noun  "state"  is  limited  by  the  prepositional  phrase  "of  Venice." 

Phrases  limiting  nouns  or  pronouns  are  adjectives;  all  others, 
adverbs. 

All  participles  ending  in  ing,  ed,f  or  t,  have  the  force  of  adjec- 
tives and  of  verbs.  When  the  verb-force  is  lost,  the  participle  is 
called  a  participial  adjective. 


69.  —  ONSET     OF    THE     IROQUOIS. 


ISth'ar  gy,  inactivity. 
dis  gorged',  poured  forth. 
ges  tie' a  la'tion,  motion  of  the 

body. 

un  ^7vr6nt'ed,  unusual. 
al  1I^§',  friends;  helpers. 
r&e  on  noi'ter^d,  examined. 


in  fll-et'ing,  making. 

me'di  at^,  make  peace. 

•con  t6rt'ed,  crooked;  out  of 
shape. 

bSn'e  di-e'tion§,  prayers  im- 
ploring happiness  on  others. 

se  -elud'  ed,  retired. 


Robert  Cavelier,  Sieur  de  la  Salle,  a  French  explorer  in  North 
America,  was  born  at  Rouen,  Prance,  in  November,  1643.  He 
became  a  settler  in  Canada,  and  about  1669,  leaving  his  trading 
post  at  La  Chine,  above  Montreal,  he  strove  to  reach  China  by 
way  of  the  Ohio,  supposing  from  the  reports  of  Indians  that 
that  river  flowed  into  the  Pacific. 

He  made  explorations  of  the  country  between  the  Ohio  and 
the  lakes,  but,  when  JolietN  and  MarquetteN  made  it  evident  that 
the  main  river,  Mississippi,  emptied  into  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  he 


SOS  FIFTH    READER. 

conceived  a  vast  project  for  extending  the  French  power  in  the 
lower  Mississippi  valley,  and  thence  attacking  Mexico. 

He  obtained  extensive  grants  from  the  French  G-overnment, 
rebuilt  Fort  Frontenac,  established  a  post  above  Niagara  Falls, 
and  built  a  small  vessel,  in  which  he  sailed  up  the  lakes  to 
Q-reen  Bay.  Thence  dispatching  his  vessel  freighted  with  furs, 
he  proceeded  with  the  rest  of  the  party,  in  boats  and  on  foot, 
to  the  Illinois  River,  near  the  head  of  which  he  began  a  post 
called  Fort  Creve  Coeur,N  and  a  vessel  in  which  to  descend  the 
Mississippi.  Not  hearing  of  his  vessel  on  the  lakes,  he  detached 
Hennepin,  with  one  companion,  to  ascend  the  Mississippi  from 
the  mouth  of  the  Illinois,  and  leaving  Tonty,  with  five  men,  at 
Fort  Creve  Coeur,  he  returned  by  land  to  Canada. 

During  this  period  the  IroquoisN  Indians,  having  left  their 
settlements  in  the  East,  suddenly  fell  upon  the  tribe  of  the  Illi- 
noisN  Indians.  The  following  graphic  account  of  the  engagement, 
taken  from  Parkman's  "Discovery  of  the  Great  West,"  well  illus- 
trates their  savage  mode  of  warfare. 

Suddenly  tlie  village  was  awakened  from  its 
lethargy  as  by  the  crash  of  a  thunderbolt.  A  Sha- 
wanoe,N  lately  here  on  a  visit,  had  left  his  Illinois 
friends  to  return  home.  He  now  re-appeared,  cross- 
ing the  river  in  hot  haste,  with  the  announcement 
that  he  had  met,  on  his  way,  an  army  of  Iroquois 
approaching  to  attack  them. 

All  was  panic  and  confusion.  The  lodges  dis- 
gorged their  frightened  inmates ;  women  and  chil- 
dren screamed,  and  startled  warriors  snatched  their 
weapons.  There  were  less  than  five  hundred  of 
them,  for  the  greater  part  of  the  young  men  had 
gone  to  war. 

A  crowd  of  excited  savages  thronged  about 
Tonty  and  his  Frenchmen,  already  objects  of  their 
suspicion,  charging  them,  amid  furious  gesticula- 
tions, with  having  stirred  up  their  enemies  to 
invade  them.  Tonty  defended  himself  in  broken 
Illinois,  but  the  savage  mob  were  but  half  con- 
vinced. 


FIFTH    READER.  SO9 

They  seized  the  forge  and  tools  and  flung  them 
into  the  river,  with  all  the  goods  that  belonged  to 
the  Frenchmen ;  then,  distrusting  their  power  to  de- 
fend themselves,  they  manned  the  wooden  canoes 
which  lay  in  multitudes  by  the  bank,  embarked 
their  women  and  children,  and  paddled  down  the 
stream  to  that  island  of  dry  land  in  the  midst  of 
marshes  which  La  Salle  afterward  found  filled  with 
their  deserted  huts. 

Sixty  warriors  remained  here  to  guard  them, 
and  the  rest  returned  to  the  village.  All  night 
long  fires  blazed  along  the  shore.  The  excited  war- 
riors greased  their  bodies,  painted  their  faces,  be- 
feathered  their  heads,  sang  their  war-songs,  danced, 
stamped,  yelled,  and  brandished  their  hatchets,  to 
work  up  their  courage  to  face  the  crisis.  The 
morning  came,  and  with  it  came  the  band  of 
Iroquois. 

Young  warriors  had  gone  out  as  scouts,  and  now 
they  returned.  They  had  seen  the  enemy  in  the 
line  of  forest  that  bordered  the  River  Aramoni,  or 
Vermilion,  and  had  stealthily  reconnoitered  them. 
They  were  very  numerous,  and  armed  for  the  most 
part  with  guns,  pistols,  and  swords.  Some  had 
bucklers  of  wood  or  rawhide,  and  some  wore  those 
corselets  of  tough  twigs  interwoven  with  cordage, 
which  their  fathers  had  used  when  fire-arms  were 
unknown. 

The  scouts  added  more,  for  they  declared  that 
they  had  seen  a  Jesuit N  among  the  Iroquois;  nay, 
that  La  Salle  himself  was  there,  whence  it  must 
follow  that  Tonty  and  his  men  were  enemies  and 
traitors.  The  supposed  Jesuit  was  but  an  Iroquois 
chief  arrayed  in  a  black  hat,  doublet,  and  stockings; 


31O  FIFTH    READER. 

while  another,  equipped  after  a  somewhat  similar 
fashion,  passed  in  the  distance  for  La  Salle. 

But  the  Illinois  were  furious.  Tonty's  life  hung 
by  a  hair.  A  crowd  of  savages  surrounded  him, 
mad  with  rage  and  terror.  He  had  come  lately 
from  Europe,  and  knew  but  little  of  Indians ;  but,  as 
the  friar  Membre  says  of  him,  "he  was  full  of  intel- 
ligence and  courage,"  and,  when  they  heard  him 
declare  that  he  and  his  Frenchmen  would  go  with 
them  to  fight  the  Iroquois,  their  threats  grew  less 
clamorous  and  their  eyes  glittered  with  a  less  deadly 
luster. 

Whooping  and  screeching,  they  ran  to  their 
canoes,  crossed  the  river,  climbed  the  woody  hill, 
and  swarmed  down  upon  the  plain  beyond.  About 
a  hundred  of  them  had  guns;  the  rest  were  armed 
with  bows  and  arrows.  They  were  now  face  to 
face  with  the  enemy,  who  had  emerged  from  the 
woods  of  the  Vermilion,  and  were  advancing  on 
the  open  prairie. 

With  unwonted  spirit— for  their  repute  as  war- 
riors was  by  no  means  high— the  Illinois  began, 
after  their  fashion,  to  charge;  that  is,  they  leaped, 
yelled,  and  shot  off  bullets  and  arrows,  advancing 
as  they  did  so;  while  the  Iroquois  replied  with 
gymnastics  no  less  agile,  and  howlings  no  less  ter- 
rific, mingled  with  the  rapid  clatter  of  their  guns. 

Tonty  saw  that  it  would  go  hard  with  his  allies. 
It  was  of  the  utmost  importance  to  stop  the  fight,  if 
possible.  The  Iroquois  were,  or  professed  to  be,  at 
peace  with  the  French;  and  he  resolved  on  an 
attempt  to  mediate,  which  may  well  be  called  a 
desperate  one. 

He  laid  aside  his  gun,  took  in  his  hand  a  warn- 


FIFTH     READER.  311 

pum  belt  as  a  flag  of  truce,  and  walked  forward  to 
meet  the  savage  multitude,  attended  by  two  French- 
men and  a  young  Illinois  who  had  the  hardihood 
to  accompany  him.  The  guns  of  the  Iroquois  still 
flashed  thick  and  fast.  Some  of  them  were  aimed 
at  him,  on  which  he  sent  back  the  two  Frenchmen 
and  the  Illinois,  and  advanced  alone,  holding  out 
the  wampum  belt. 

A  moment  more,  and  he  was  among  the  infu- 
riated warriors.  It  was  a  frightful  spectacle:  the 
contorted  forms,  bounding,  crouching,  twisting,  to 
deal  or  dodge  the  shot;  the  small  keen  eyes  that 
shone  like  an  angry  snake's;  the  parted  lips  pealing 
their  fiendish  yells;  the  painted  features  writhing 
with  fear  and  fury,  and  every  other  passion  of  an 
Indian  fight— man,  wolf,  and  devil,  all  in  one. 

With  his  swarthy  complexion  and  half  savage 
dress,  they  thought  he  was  an  Indian,  and  thronged 
about  him,  glaring  murder.  A  young  warrior 
stabbed  at  his  heart  with  a  knife,  but  the  point 
glanced  aside  against  a  rib,  inflicting  only  a  deep 
gash.  A  chief  called  out  that  as  his  ears  were  not 
pierced,  he  must  be  a  Frenchman.  On  this,  some  of 
them  tried  to  stop  the  bleeding,  and  led  him  to  the 
rear,  where  an  angry  parley  ensued,  while  the  yells 
and  firing  still  resounded  in  the  front. 

Tonty,  breathless  and  bleeding  at  the  mouth  with 
the  force  of  the  blow  he  had  received,  found  words 
to  declare  that  the  Illinois  were  under  the  protec- 
tion of  the  king,  and  the  governor  of  Canada,  and 
to  demand  that  they  should  be  left  in  peace. 

A  young  Iroquois  snatched  Tonty's  hat,  placed  it 
on  the  end  of  his  gun,  and  displayed  it  to  the  Illi- 
nois, who,  thereupon,  thinking  he  was  killed,  re- 


FIFTH     READER. 


newed  the  fight;  and  the  firing  in  front  clattered 
more  angrily  than  "before.  A  warrior  ran  in,  crying 
out  that  the  Iroquois  were  giving  ground,  and  that 
there  were  Frenchmen  among  the  Illinois,  who  fired 
at  them. 

On  this  the  clamor  around  Tonty  was  redoubled. 
Some  wished  to  kill  him  at  once;  others  resisted. 
"  I  was  never,"  he  writes,  "  in  such  perplexity,  for 
at  that  moment  there  was  an  Iroquois  behind  me, 
with  a  knife  in  his  hand,  lifting  my  hair  as  if  he 
were  going  to  scalp  me.  I  thought  it  was  all  over 
with  me,  and  that  my  best  hope  was  that  they 
would  knock  me  in  the  head,  instead  of  burning  me 
alive,  as  I  believed  they  would  do." 

In  fact,  a  Seneca  N  chief  demanded  that  he  should 
be  burned;  while  an  OnondagaN  chief,  a  friend  of 
La  Salle,  was  for  setting  him  free.  The  dispute  grew 
fierce  and  hot.  Tonty  told  them  that  the  Illinois 
were  twelve  hundred  strong,  and  that  sixty  French- 
men were  at  the  village,  ready  to  back  them.  This 
invention,  though  not  fully  believed,  had  no  little 
effect. 

The  friendly  Onondaga  carried  his  point;  and  the 
Iroquois,  having  failed  to  surprise  their  enemies,  as 
they  had  hoped,  now  saw  an  opportunity  to  delude 
them  by  a  truce.  They  sent  back  Tonty  with  a  belt 
of  peace:  he  held  it  aloft  in  sight  of  the  Illinois; 
chiefs  and  old  warriors  ran  to  stop  the  fight,  the 
yells  and  the  firing  ceased;  and  Tonty,  like  one 
waked  from  a  hideous  nightmare,  dizzy,  almost 
fainting  from  loss  of  blood,  staggered  across  the  in- 
tervening prairie,  to  rejoin  his  friends. 

He  was  met  by  the  two  friars,N  Bibourde  and 
Membre",  who,  in  their  secluded  hut,  a  league  from 


FIFTH    READER.  313 

the  village,  had  but  lately  heard  of  what  was  pass- 
ing, and  who  now,  with  "benedictions  and  thanks- 
giving, ran  to  embrace  him  as  a  man  escaped  from 

the  jaws  of  death. 

FRANCIS  PARKMAN. 

Biography.  —  Francis  Parkman  was  born  in  Boston  in  1823,  and 
graduated  at  Harvard  College  in  1844.  He  spent  a  number  of 
years  in  the  Far  West,  studying  the  manners  and  customs  of  the 
Indians.  He  has  -written  a  number  of  instructive  works,  among 
which  are:  "The  Great  West,"  "History  of  the  Conspiracy  of 
Pontiac,"  and  "France  and  England  in  North  America." 

Notes.  — Joliet  (zho'le  a)  and  Marquette  (market7)  were  French 
priests  who  devoted  their  lives  to  the  conversion  of  the  Indians. 

The  Iroquois'  (kwoy),  SSn'e  ca,  Illinois',  Shawa'noe,  and  On- 
6n  da'ga  were  the  names  of  Indian  tribes. 

CrZve  Cceur  means   "Broken  Heart." 

A  Jesuit  is  a  member  of  the  well-known  Society  of  Jesus. 

Friars,  meaning  brothers,  is  the  name  given  to  the  members 
of  certain  mendicant  orders  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church. 


7(9.  — THE     VANE     ON     THE     SPIRE. 


ur  r&e'tion,  a  rising  from 
death. 

,  church;  temple. 
'  ed,  pressed  together. 
wlz'ard,  enchanter. 
bap  tlz^d',  sprinkled;  immersed. 


bin'  na  -el^,  a  box  for  the  compass 


,  made  holy. 
blSnt,  mixed  ;  mingled. 
draft,  a  drawing. 
p£nd'  ants,  hanging  pieces. 


There's  an  arrow  aloft  with  a  feather'd  shaft 
That  never  has  flown  at  the  bowstring's  draft, 
And    the    goldsmith    has    hidden    the    blacksmith's 
craft. 

For  its  heart  is  of  iron,  its  gleam  of  gold, 
It  is  pointed  to  pierce  and  barbed  to  hold, 
And  its  wonderful  story  is  hardly  told. 


314  FIFTH    READER. 

It  is  poised  on  a  finger  from  sun  to  sun, 
And  it  catches  a  glimmer  of  dawn  begun, 
And  is  floating  in  light  when  the  day  is  done. 

And  it  turns  at  the  touch  of  a  viewless  hand, 
And  it  swings  in  the  air  like  a  wizard's  wand, 
By  the  tempest  whirled  and  the  zephyr  fanned. 

And  the  sinewy  finger  that  can  not  tire 
Is  the  lifted  hush  of  the  old  church  spire 
That  vanishes  out  as  heaven  is  nigher; 

And  the  arrow  upon  it  the  rusted  vane, 
As  true  to  its  master  as  faith  to  fane, 
That  is  swinging  forever  in  sun  and  rain. 

Right  about  to  the  North !    And  the  trumpets  blow, 
And  the  shivering  air  is  dim  with  snow, 
And    the    earth   grows   dumb   and   the   brooks   run 
slow; 

And  the  shaggy  Arctic,  chilled  to  the  bone, 
Is  craunching  the  world  with  a  human  moan, 
And  the  clank  of  a  chain  in  the  frozen  zone. 

And  the  world  is  dead  in  its  seamless  shroud, 
And  the  stars  wink  slow  in  the  rifted  cloud, 
And  the  owl  in  the  oak  complains  aloud. 

But  the  arrow  is  true  to  the  iceberg's  realm, 
As  the  rudder  stanch  in  the  ghastly  whelm 
With  a  hero  by  to  handle  the  helm! 

Is  it  welded  with  frost  as  iron  with  fire? 
Up  with  a  blue-jacket !     Clamber  the  spire 
And  swing  it  around  to  the  point  of  desire! 


FIFTH    READER.  313 

It  sways  to  the  East!     And  the  icy  rain 

Beats  the  storm's  "long-  roll "N  on  the  window  pane,— 

Leaves  a  diamond  point  on  the  crystal  vane. 

And  the  cattle  stand  with  the  wind  astern, 
And  the  routes  of  the  rain  on  eave  and  urn — 
As  the  drops  are  halted  and  frozen  in  turn— 

Are  such  pendants  of  wonder  as  cave  and  mine 
Never  gave  to  the  gaze  when  the  torches  shine, 
But  right  out  of  Heaven  and  half  divine! 

Ah,  it  swings  due  South  to  the  zephyr's  thrill! 

In  the  yellow  noon  it  lies  as  still 

As  a  speckled  trout  by  the  drowsy  mill, 

While  the  bugle  of  Gabriel*  wakes  the  sod 
And  the  beautiful  life  in  the  speechless  clod, 
Till  the  crowded  June  is  a  smile  for  God! 

Resurrection  to-day !     For  the  roses  spoke ! 
Resurrection  to-day!     For  the  rugged  oak 
In  a  live  green  billow  rolled  and  broke  1 

And  the  spider  feels  for  her  silken  strings, 

And  the  honey-bee  hums,  and  the  world  has  wings; 

And  blent  with  the  blue  the  bluebird  sings. 

While  the  cloud  is  ablaze  with  the  bended  bow, 
And  the  waters  white  with  the  lilies'  snow, 
On  the  motionless  arrow,  all  in  a  row, 

Are  four  little  sparrows  that  pipe  so  small 
Their  carol  distills  as  the  dew-drops  fall, 
And  we  only  see  they  are  singing  at  all ! 


316  FIFTH    READER. 

Now  the  arrow  is  swung  with  a  sweep  so  bold 
Where  the  day  has  "been  flinging  his  garments  gold 
Till  they  stain  the  sky  with  a  glow  untold. 

Ah,  the  cardinal  point  of  the  wind  is  the  West ! 
And  the  clouds  bear  down  in  a  fleet  abreast, 
And  the  world  is  still  as  a  child  at  rest ! 

There's  a  binnacle  light  like  an  angry  star, 
And  the  growl  of  a  gun  with  its  crash  and  jar 
And  the  roll  of  a  drum  where  the  angels  are. 

And  it  tumbles  its  freight  on  the  dancing  grain 
And  it  beats  into  blossom  the  buds  again, 
And  it  brightens  a  world  baptized  in  rain, 

And  it  gladdens  the  earth  as  it  drifts  along, 
And  the  meadow  is  green  and  the  corn  is  strong, 
And  the  brook  breaks  forth  in  the  same  old  song! 

And  I  looked  for  the  arrow— it  hung  there  yet, 
With  the  drops  of  the  rain  its  barb  was  wet, 
And  the  sun  shone  out  in  a  crimson  set; 

And  behold,  aloft  in  the  ruddy  shine 

Where  the  crystal  water  again  was  wine, 

And  it  hallowed  the  dart  like  a  touch  divine! 

Under  the  sun  and  under  the  moon, 

Silver  at  midnight,  golden  at  noon, 

Could  DianN  have  lost  it  out  of  her  hair,— 
Phoebus'sN  quiver  have  shaken  it  there,— 
That  wonderful  arrow  sweeping  the  air? 

BENJAMIN  F.  TAYLOR. 


FIFTH    READER.  317 

Biography.  —  For  a  biographical  sketch  of  Benjamin  F.  Taylor, 
see  page  204. 

Notes.— "Long  roll"  means  the  continued  patter  of  the  rain- 
drops, reminding  one  of  the  prolonged  roll  of  the  drums,  beaten 
as  the  signal  of  an  attack  by  the  enemy,  and  for  the  troops  to 
arrange  themselves  in  line. 

Ga'brlel,  meaning  "The  mighty  one  of  God,"  is  the  name  given 
to  one  of  the  seven  angels  of  the  highest  order. 

Dian  is  used  by  the  poet  for  Di  an'  a,  which  -was  the  name  of 
a  goddess  worshiped  by  the  ancient  Romans.  She  was  usually 
represented  as  armed  with  bow  and  arrows. 

Phce'bus,  the  god  of  beauty  and  youth,  was  supposed  by  the 
ancients  to  carry  a  silver  bow  and  a  quiver  of  arrows,  and,  when 
angry,  to  shoot  his  darts  among  men,  thereby  causing  sickness  or 
death.  He  was  the  sun-god  of  the  Greeks. 

Elocution.  — The  slight  pause  occurring  regularly  near  the 
middle  of  each  line  of  poetry  is  called  the  fcegu'ra 

Point  out  the  ccesura  in  each  of  the  first  two  stanzas  of  the 
above  poem. 


. -TROPICAL    VEGETATION    IN     SOUTH     AMERICA. 


grad'u  at  ed,  arranged  by  suc- 
cessive dearees ;  various. 


im  pra-e'ti  -ea  bl^,  impossible; 

incapable  of  being  used. 
a-e  965'  so  rl^§,  additions. 
pr6m'i  nen9^,  notice. 

u'  ri  ant  (lugz),  profuse 


par' a  slt'i-e,  drawing  sustenance 
from  a  living  thing. 

sta'  pl^,  chief  products  of  a  coun- 
try or  district. 

In'ter  Ia9'ing,  intermixing. 

dls'so  nant,  harsh. 

re  spS-et'Iv^,  own;  particular. 

It  is  hardly  possible  for  one  who  has  not  visited 
the  tropics  to  imagine  the  wonders  of  tropical  vege- 
tation. The  most  faithful  picture,  the  most  finished 
photograph,  give  but  a  faint  idea  of  what  it  really 
is;  and  the  ablest  description  is  but  a  word-paint- 
ing in  which  the  variety  of  hues,  the  graduated 
shades  of  color,  the  immensity  of  size,  and  the 
grandeur  of  the  reality  are  more  or  less  wanting. 


318  FIFTH    READER. 

There  is  nothing  in  any  of  the  northern  coun- 
tries with  which  to  compare  the  richness  of  trop- 
ical growth;  and  lovely  as  are  the  tints  in  a  broad 
American  landscape,  they  are  as  nothing  in  point  of 
splendor  to  those  of  the  tropical  scene.  Accessories 
of  sun,  sky,  and  temperature,  which  there  serve  to 
bring  the  principal  features  into  greater  promi- 
nence, are  represented  here  only  in  an  inferior 
degree. 

Particular  reasons,  connected  with  a  great  rain- 
fall, and  with  the  size  and  number  of  the  rivers, 
render  the  South  American  continent  luxuriant 
above  most  other  places  in  the  quantity  and  rich- 
ness of  its  vegetation.  From  the  shore  of  the  Q-ulf 
of  Mexico  to  the  frontier  of  Chili,  there  is  a  lux- 
uriance of  growth  which  is  truly  wonderful.  Had 
not  man  carved  out  a  place  for  himself,  the  huge 
forests,  which  now  cover  league  after  league  of 
ground,  would  have  stretched  down  to  the  water's 
edge,  and  filled  the  whole  land  with  their  branches. 

What  a  scene  is  presented  to  one  who  pene- 
trates the  borders  of  a  forest  whereon  the  hand 
of  man  has  not  been  laid !  Such  forests  may  be 
found  in  the  Old  World,  but  it  is  in  the  New  that 
they  exist  in  the  greatest  perfection.  The  fore- 
ground is  taken  up  by  vast  families  of  many 
kinds  of  shrubs,  which  the  influence  of  the  climate 
tends  to  make  gigantic ;  the  cactus  and  prickly-pear 
unite  with  the  merciless  Spanish-needle  to  form 
a  hedge  through  which  no  tiger  can  force  its  way ; 
ferns  higher  than  a  man's  head  join  with  the  many 
kinds  of  grasses  to  produce  an  impracticable  foot- 
way, in  which  lurk  the  cobra  and  the  rattlesnake, 
ferocious  centipedes,  the  whole  family  of  scorpions, 


FIFTH    READER.  319 

and  the  rest  of  the  creatures  which,  were  doomed  to 
wound  man's  heel. 

Like  watch-towers  in  the  sea  of  vegetation,  the 
wild  plaintain  and  banana,  the  castor-oil  plant,  the 
india  rubber  tree,  the  wild  grape  and  the  cotton- 
shrub,  stand  out  above  the  level  at  which  the 
jungle  growth  stops  short;  and  creeping  up  around 
them,  the  sweet  potato  and  the  cassava  twine  their 
creepers.  A  clump  of  mangrove  bushes  marks  the 
spot  where  water  can  not  soak  through  the  satu- 
rated ground,  and  the  maize  standing  still  in  the 
solid  earth  beyond,  shows  the  partial  character  of 
the  swamp.  The  lesser  palms,  the  trumpet-tree,  the 
fig,  and  the  cocoa  shrub  are  represented  at  intervals 
here  and  there. 

A  path,  cut  out  as  through  stone-work  in  this 
densest  of  thickets,  leads  to  the  border  of  the  forest 
itself,  where  the  strong  glare  of  the  noonday  sun 
can  not  enter,  save  in  a  subdued  form  through 
openings  made  by  the  fall  of  some  forest  giant,  or 
through  the  apertures  occasioned  by  the  freaks  of 
nature  in  the  disposition  of  the  trees. 

The  same  shrubs,  and  grasses,  and  ferns,  and 
creepers  which  covered  the  foreground  and  made  it 
all  but  impassable,  are  here  to  be  seen  occupying 
the  fruitful  ground,  so  that  all  spaces  between  the 
trees  are  closely  filled  up,  while,  in  and  out  among 
their  stems,  vines  of  enormous  strength  bind  them 
together  and  to  the  adjacent  trees,  which  are  cov- 
ered with  parasitic  climbers. 

Almost  all  the  trees  that  grow  in  the  forest  are 
here  save  those  peculiar  to  the  temperate  zone.  The 
iron-wood,  the  cedar,  the  locust-tree,  the  mastic,  the 
satin-wood,  mahogany,  and  rose-wood,  with  the  vari- 


32O  FIFTH    READER. 

ous  kinds  of  gum-tree  and  logwood,  form  the  staple 
of  the  community.  The  cinchona  tree,  from  the 
bark  of  which  quinine N  is  drawn,  heads  a  division 
of  no  mean  strength,  while  every  variety  of  palm 
and  cocoa-nut  rear  their  graceful  and  gigantic  stems 
in  every  spot  where  they  can  find  an  opening. 

So  thickly  are  these  trees  planted,  so  innumer- 
able are  their  allies,  so  closely  are  the  interlacing 
"branches  bound  together,  that  the  sky  is  visible  in 
only  a  few  places. 

~No  words  can  convey  any  idea  either  of  the 
height  or  girth  of  the  great  trees.  Twelve,  eighteen, 
twenty,  and  twenty-five  feet,  do  some  of  the  mon- 
sters measure  around  the  base,  while  for  height 
they  have  seventy,  and  even  a  hundred  feet  of  clear 
stem,  without  a  branch. 

Among  the  gorgeous  blossoms  of  the  hundreds 
of  wild  flowers  that  embrace  the  trees,  perhaps  a 
scarlet  snake  or  a  whip-snake  <may  be  seen  hanging 
from  some  branch,  deceiving  the  traveler  by  its 
blossom  or  tendril-like  appearance,  ready  to  deal 
him  a  death-blow  in  the  event  of  his  coming 
within  reach. 

Animal  life  swarms  in  these  forests  with  amaz- 
ing abundance.  Parrots  of  various  species  and  brill- 
iant plumage;  birds  innumerable,  from  the  scarlet 
flamingo  to  the  tiny  humming-bird,  nestle  in  every 
branch;  while  the  thickets  swarm  with  wild  ani- 
mals in  such  prodigious  numbers,  that  it  appears 
hardly  conceivable  how  they  can  all  find  subsistence. 

Tigers,  jaguars,  tapirs,  monkeys,  wild  boars,  deer, 
besides  smaller  quadrupeds,  abound  in  every  direc- 
tion; and  by  a  peculiarity  very  remarkable,  and  un- 
known elsewhere,  they  all  begin  at  the  same  hour  of 


FIFTH    READER.  321 

the  night  to  raise  their  respective  cries,  and  fill  the 
forest  with  a  chorus  so  loud  and  dissonant  that 
sleep  is  for  hours  impossible  to  the  wearied  trav- 
eler. 

CHARLES  KINGSLEY. 

Biography. — Rev.  Charles  ELingsley  "was  born  in  Devonshire, 
England,  in  1819,  and  died  in  1875. 

After  graduating  from  Cambridge  University,  he  devoted  him- 
self to  theological  work.  But  his  name  is  best  known  by  his  en- 
deavor to  better  the  condition  of  the  working  classes.  The  origin 
of  the  co-operative  associations  in  which  the  workmen  are  also 
the  masters,  was  mainly  due  to  his  influence. 

Kingsley's  insight  into  human  nature  and  his  descriptive 
powers  were  alike  remarkable.  The  truth  of  his  pictures  of  South 
American  forests  has  excited  the  admiration  of  travelers  who 
have  seen  what  he  described  through  the  gift  of  imagination. 

His  principal  works  are:  "Westward  Ho!"  "Hypatia,"  "Alton 
Locke,"  "Hereward,"  and  "At  Last." 

Notes.  —  Quinine  (kwl'nln)  is  an  important  remedial  agent,  and 
is  extensively  used  as  a  tonic  and  in  the  treatment  of  fevers. 

Composition.  — Take  as  a  subject  — "A  Visit  to  Niagara,"  and 
treat  it  in  the  form  of  a  narrative. 


In'-eom  mod^,  disturb. 
ap  plat^d'ed,  praised. 
pre  -caption,  care. 
tran  sl'tion  (sizh'un),  change. 


72.  —  FRANKLIN'S     VISIT    TO     HIS     MOTHER 

In'stin-et,  natural  impulse. 

ma  ter'nal,  motherly. 

pre  -elud'ed,  prevented. 

fas' 9!  nat  ing,  charming. 

ar'gu  ments,  reasons;  proofs.         suf  fus^d',  filled. 

Benjamin  Franklin, N  after  the  death  of  his  father, 
returned  to  Boston,  in  order  to  pay  his  respects  to 
his  mother,  who  resided  in  that  city.  He  had  been 
absent  some  years,  and  at  that  period  of  life  when 
the  greatest  and  most  rapid  alteration  is  made  in 
the  human  appearance ;  at  a  time  when  tlie  shrill 


322  FIFTH     READER. 

voice  of  the  youth,  assumes  the  commanding  tones 
of  the  man,  and  the  smiling  features  of  boyhood 
are  succeeded  "by  the  strong  lines  of  the  adult. 

Franklin  was  sensible  that  the  change  in  his 
looks  was  such  that  his  mother  could  not  know 
him,  except  by  that  instinct,  which  it  is  believed 
can  cause  a  mother's  heart  to  beat  violently  in  the 
presence  of  her  child,  and  point  the  maternal  eye, 
with  quick  and  sudden  glance,  to  a  beloved  son. 

To  ascertain  by  actual  experience  whether  or  not 
this  instinct  exists,  he  resolved  to  introduce  him- 
self as  a  stranger  to  his  mother,  and  to  watch 
narrowly  for  the  moment  in  which  she  should 
discover  her  son. 

On  a  cold,  chilly  day,  in  the  month  of  January, 
in  the  afternoon,  he  knocked  at  his  mother's  door, 
and  asked  to  speak  with  Mrs.  Franklin.  He  found 
the  old  lady  knitting  before  the  parlor  fire,  intro- 
duced himself,  by  remarking  that  he  had  been  in- 
formed she  entertained  travelers,  and  requested  a 
night's  lodging. 

She  eyed  him  with  that  cold  look  which  most 
people  assume  when  they  imagine  themselves  in- 
sulted; assured  him  that  he  had  been  misinformed — 
that  she  did  not  keep  a  tavern ;  but  that  it  was  true, 
to  oblige  some  members  of  the  legislature,  she  took 
a  number  of  them  into  her  family  during  the  ses- 
sion; that  she  then  had  four  members  of  the  coun- 
cil, who  boarded  with  her— that  all  the  beds  were 
full;  and  then  she  betook  herself  to  her  knitting 
with  that  intense  application  which  expressed,  as 
forcibly  as  action  could  do,  "If  you  have  concluded 
your  business,  the  sooner  you  leave  the  house  the 
better." 


FIFTH     READER.  323 

But  upon  Franklin's  wrapping-  his  coat  around 
him,  affecting  to  shiver  with  cold,  and  remarking 
that  it  was  very  chilly  weather,  she  pointed  to  a 
chair,  and  gave  him  leave  to  warm  himself. 

The  entrance  of  her  "boarders  precluded  all  fur- 
ther conversation— coffee  was  SQon  served,  and  Ben- 
jamin partook  with  the  family.  To  the  coffee, 
according  to  the  good  old  fashion  of  the  times, 
succeeded  a  plate  of  pippins  and  then  pipes,  when 
the  whole  family  formed  a  cheerful,  smoking  semi- 
circle "before  the  fire. 

Perhaps  no  man  ever  possessed  conversational 
powers  to  a  more  fascinating  degree  than  Franklin; 
and  never  was  there  an  occasion  when  he  displayed 
those  powers  to  greater  advantage,  than  at  this 
time.  He  drew  the  attention  of  the  company  "by 
the  solidity  of  his  modest  remarks,  instructed  them 
by  the  varied,  new,  and  striking  lights  in  which  he 
placed  his  subjects,  and  delighted  them  with  apt 
and  amusing  anecdotes. 

Thus  employed,  the  hours  passed  merrily  along 
until  eight  o'clock,  when,  punctual  to  the  moment, 
Mrs.  Franklin  announced  supper.  Busied  with  her 
household  affairs,  she  fancied  the  intruding  stranger 
had  left  the  house  immediately  after  coffee,  and  it 
was  with  difficulty  she  could  restrain  her  resent- 
ment when  she  saw  him  seat  himself  at  the  table 
with  the  freedom  of  a  member  of  the  family. 

Immediately  after  supper  she  called  aside  one 
of  her  boarders,  an  elderly  gentleman,  and  com- 
plained bitterly  of  the  rudeness  of  the  stranger — 
told  the  manner  of  his  introduction  to  the  house— 
observed  that  she  thought  there  was  something  very 
suspicious  in  his  appearance,  and  asked  her  friend's 


324  FIFTH     READER. 

advice  with  respect  to  the  way  in  which,  she  could 
most  easily  rid  herself  of  his  presence. 

The  old  gentleman  assured  her  that  the  stranger 
was  certainly  a  young  man  of  education,  and  to 
all  appearance  a  gentleman;  that  perhaps,  "being  in 
agreeable  company,  he  had  paid  no  attention  to 
the  lateness  of  the  hour;  and  advised  her  to  call 
him  aside,  and  repeat  to  him  her  inability  to  lodge 
him. 

She  accordingly  sent  her  maid  to  him,  and  then, 
with  as  much  calmness  as  she  could  command, 
again  related  the  situation  of  her  family;  observed 
that  it  grew  late,  and  mildly  intimated  that  lie 
would  do  well  to  seek  a  lodging  elsewhere.  Frank- 
lin replied  that  he  would  by  no  means  incommode 
her  family;  but  that,  with  her  leave,  he  would 
smoke  one  pipe  more  with  her  boarders,  and  then 
retire. 

He  returned  to  his  company,  filled  his  pipe,  and 
with  the  first  whiff,  his  powers  of  converse  returned 
with  double  force.  A  gentleman  present  mentioned 
the  subject  of  the  day's  debate  — a  bill  had  been 
introduced  to  extend  the  powers  of  the  royal  gov- 
ernor. 

Franklin  immediately  entered  upon  the  subject— 
supported  the  colonial  rights  with  new  and  forcible 
arguments— was  familiar  with  the  names  of  the  in- 
fluential men  in  the  House — recited  their  speeches, 
and  applauded  their  noble  defense. 

During  a  discourse  so  interesting  to  the  com- 
pany, no  wonder  the  clock  struck  eleven,  unnoticed 
by  the  delighted  circle:  nor  was  it  wonderful  that 
the  patience  of  Mrs.  Franklin  grew  quite  exhausted. 
She  now  entered  the  room,  and,  before  the  whole 


FIFTH    READER.  325 

company,  with.  much,  warmth,  addressed  Franklin ; 
told  him  plainly  she  thought  herself  imposed  upon; 
and  concluded  by  insisting  on  his  leaving  the  house. 

Franklin  made  a  slight  apology,  quietly  put  on 
his  great  coat  and  hat,  took  a  polite  leave  of  the 
company,  and  approached  the  street  door,  lighted 
"by  the  maid  and  attended  by  Mrs.  Franklin. 

In  the  meantime,  a  tremendous  snow-storm  had 
arisen  and  filled  the  streets  knee-deep,  and  no 
sooner  had  the  maid  lifted  the  latch,  than  a  roar- 
ing wind  forced  open  the  door,  extinguished  the 
light,  and  almost  filled  the  entry  with  drifting 
snow. 

As  soon  as  the  candle  was  relighted,  Franklin 
cast  a  woful  look  toward  the  door,  and  thus  ad- 
dressed his  mother :  "  My  dear  madam,  can  you 
turn  me  out  of  your  house  in  this  dreadful  storm? 
I  am  a  stranger  in  your  town,  and  shall  certainly 
perish  in.  the  streets.  You  look  like  a  charitable 
lady :  I  shouldn't  think  you  could  turn  a  dog  from 
your  door  on  this  tempestuous  night," 

"  Don't  speak  to  me  of  charity,"  said  the  offended 
lady;  "charity  begins  at  home.  It  is  your  own  fault 
that  you  tarried  so  long.  To  be  plain  with  you, 
sir,  I  do  not  like  your  looks  or  your  conduct,  and 
I  fear  you  have  some  bad  designs  in  thus  intro- 
ducing yourself  to  my  family." 

The  warmth  of  this  parley  had  drawn  the  com- 
pany from  the  parlor,  and  by  their  united  requests 
the  stranger  was  permitted  to  lodge  in  the  house; 
and  as  no  bed  could  be  had,  he  consented  to  repose 
on  an  easy  chair  before  the  parlor  fire. 

Although  her  boarders  appeared  to  confide  per- 
fectly in  the  stranger's  honesty,  it  was  not  so  with 


FIFTH    READER. 


Mrs.  Franklin  ;  with  suspicious  caution  she  col- 
lected her  silver  spoons  and  pepper-box  from  her 
closet,  and  after  securing-  the  parlor  door  "by  stick- 
ing a  fork  over  the  latch,  carried  the  silver  to  her 
chamber,  charged  the  man-servant  to  sleep  with 
his  clothes  on,  and  to  arise  and  seize  the  vagrant 
at  the  first  noise  he  made  in  attempting  to  plun- 
der the  house.  Having  thus  taken  every  precau- 
tion, she  retired  to  bed  with  her  maid,  whom  she 
compelled  to  sleep  in  her  room. 

Mrs.  Franklin  rose  before  the  sun,  roused  her 
servants,  unfastened  the  parlor  door  with  timid 
caution,  and  was  agreeably  surprised  to  find  her 
guest  quietly  sleeping  in  the  chair.  A  sudden 
transition  from  extreme  mistrust  to  perfect  confi- 
dence was  natural. 

She  awakened  him  with  a  cheerful  good-morn- 
ing, inquired  how  he  had  rested,  and  invited  him 
to  partake  of  her  breakfast,  which  was  always 
served  previous  to  that  of  her  boarders.  "And 
pray,  sir,"  said  the  old  lady,  as  she  sipped  her 
chocolate,  "  as  you  appear  to  be  a  stranger  here,  to 
what  distant  country  do  you  belong?" 

"I,  madam?  I  belong  to  the  city  of  Philadel- 
phia." 

At  the  mention  of  Philadelphia,  Franklin  after- 
ward declared  he  for  the  first  time  perceived  any 
emotion  in  her. 

"Philadelphia?"  said  she,  and  all  the  mother  N 
suffused  her  eye.  "If  you  live  in  Philadelphia, 
perhaps  you  know  our  Ben." 

"Who,  madam?" 

"  Why,  Ben  Franklin  ;  my  Ben.  O  he  is  the  dear- 
est child  that  ever  blest  a  mother  !  " 


FIFTH    READER.  327 

"What!"  said  tlie  Doctor.  "Is  Ben  Franklin,  the 
printer,  your  son?  Why,  he  is  my  most  intimate 
friend ;  he  and  I  lodge  in  the  same  room." 

"  O  G-od  forgive  me ! "  exclaimed  the  old  lady, 
raising  her  watery  eyes  to  heaven,  "  and  have  I 
suffered  an  acquaintance  of  my  Benny  to  sleep 
on  a  hard  chair,  while  I  myself  rested  in  a  good 
bed ! " 

How  Franklin  discovered  himself  to  his  mother 
he  has  not  informed  us ;  "but,  from  the  above  ex- 
periment, he  was  firmly  convinced,  and  was  often 
afterward  heard  to  declare,  that  natural  affection 

does  not  exist. 

FREEMAN  HUNT. 

Biography. —For  a  biographical  sketch  of  Freeman  Hunt,  see 
page  163. 

Notes.— Benjamin  Franklin  (1706-1790),  the  great  philosopher 
and  patriot,  was  a  native  of  Boston,  and  began  life  as  a  print- 
er's apprentice.  His  wonderful  success  was  due  to  industry,  good 
sense,  and  a  habit  of  observation  that  led  him  to  understand 
men  and  the  relations  of  objects  at  once.  We  all  know  the 
story  of  Franklin's  kite  and  the  discovery  he  made,  that  light- 
ning and  electricity  are  the  same.  He,  with  four  others,  was 
chosen  by  Congress  to  prepare  the  "Declaration  of  Independ- 
ence." 

All  the  mother  suffused  her  eye  means  that  her  motherly  feelings 
brought  tears  to  her  eye*. 

Language.  — Show  the  force  of  the  prefix  re  in  the  following 
words:  retold,  returned,  rebound,  recovered. 

A  single  word  uttered  as  an  exclamation  is  called  an  interjec- 
tion; as,  "What!  Is  Ben  Franklin,"  etc. 

Name-words  (nouns),  action-words  (verbs),  pronouns,  adjectives, 
adverbs,  prepositions,  conjunctions  (connecting -words),  and  interjec- 
tions are  called  Parts  of  Speech,  because  with  them  all  sentences 
are  constructed. 

Adverbs  and  pronouns,  when  introducing  sentences  used  as  ad- 
verbs or  adjectives,  are  connecting -words ;  as,  "She  eyed  him 
with  a  look  which  most  people  assume  when  they  imagine  them- 
selves insulted."  The  j>roitotin  which  and  the  adverb  when  are 
used  as  connect iuy-tt-ord.-,  (conjunctions). 


328  FIFTH    READER. 


73.  —  THE     WIDOW    OF    GLENCOE. 

'en,  fern. 

he^th'er,  «  plant  bearing  beau- 
tiful flowers. 

tar' tan,  woolen  cloth,  cross-barred 
with  threads  of  various  colors. 

slo'gan,  war-cry. 

•e6r'  a  na-el^.,  a  funeral  song. 


n,  struck;  hit. 
he^th'-bel\§,    blossoms   of   the 

heather. 

spe-e'tral,  ghostly. 
lam'  en  ta'tion,   expression   of 


sorrow. 


remains. 


Do  not  lift  him  from  the  bracken,  leave  him  lying  where  he  fell— 
Better  bier  ye  can  not  fashion  :   none  beseems  him  half  so  well 
As  the  bare  and  broken  heather,  and  the  hard  and  trampled  sod, 
Whence  his  angry  soul  ascended  to  the  judgment-seat  of  God  ! 
Winding-sheet  we  can  not  give  him  — seek  no  mantle  for  the  dead, 
Save  the  cold  and  spotless  covering  showered  from  heaven  upon 
his  head. 

Leave  his  broadsword  as  we  found  it,  bent  and  broken  with  the 

blow, 

Which,  before  he  died,  avenged  him  on  the  foremost  of  the  foe. 
Leave  the  blood  upon  his  bosom  — wash  not  off  that  sacred  stain; 
Let  it  stiffen  on  the  tartan,  let  his  wounds  unclosed  remain, 
Till  the  day  when  he  shall  show  them  at  the  throne  of  God  on 

high, 
When  the  murderer  and  the  murdered  meet  before  their  Judge's 

eye !  • 

Nay  _  ye  shall  not  weep,  my  children  1   leave  it   to  the  faint   and 

weak ; 

Sobs  are  but  a  woman's  weapon  — tears  befit  a  maiden's  cheek. 
Weep  not,  children  of  Macdonald ! N     Weep   not   thou,  his  orphan 

heir— 
Not   in   shame,  but   stainless   honor,    lies   thy   slaughtered   father 

there. 
Weep   not— but   when    years   are -over,  and   thine   arm   is   strong 

and  sure, 
And    thy    foot    is    swift    and    steady    on    the    mountain   and   the 

muirN  — 


FIFTH    READER.  329 

Let  thy  heart  be  hard  as  iron,   and  thy  wrath  as  fierce  as  fire, 
Till  the  hour  when  vengeance  cometh  for  the  race  that  slew  thy 

sire! 

Till  in  deep  and  dark  GlenlyonN  rise  a  louder  shriek  of  woe, 
Than  at  midnight  from  their  aerie,  scared  the  eagles  of  Glencoe  : 
Louder  than  the  screams  that  mingled  with   the  howling  of  the 

blast, 

When  the  murderer's  steel  was  clashing,  and  the  fires  were  ris- 
ing fast. 

When  thy  noble  father  bounded  to  the  rescue  of  his  men, 

And   the   slogan   of  our   kindred   pealed   throughout    the   startled 

glen  ! 
When  the  herd  of  frantic  women  stumbled  through  the  midnight 

snow,  • 

With  their  fathers'  houses  blazing,  and  their  dearest  dead  below ! 
O,  the  horror  of  the  tempest  as  the  flashing  drift  was  blown, 
Crimsoned  with  the  conflagration,   and   the   roofs  went   thunder- 
ing down. 

O,    the    prayers  — the    prayers    and    curses    that    together    winged 

their  flight 
From  the  maddened  hearts  of  many  through  that  long  and  wo- 

ful  night ! 

Till  the  fires  began  to  dwindle,  and  the  shots  grew  faint  and  few, 
And  we  heard  the  foeman's  challenge  only   in  a  far  halloo  : 
Till  the  silence  once  more  settled  o'er  the  gorges  of  the  glen, 
Broken  only  by  the  ConaN  plunging  through  its  naked  den. 

Slowly  from  the  mountain  summit  was  the  drifting  veil  with- 
drawn, 

And  the  ghastly  valley  glimmered  in  the  gray  December  dawn. 

Better  had  the  morning  never  dawned  upon  our  dark  despair  ! 

Black  upon  the  common  whiteness  rose  the  spectral  ruins  there. 

But  the  sight  of  these  was  nothing  more  than  wrings  the  wild- 
dove's  breast, 

When  she  searches  for  her  offspring  round  the  relics  of  her  nest. 

For  in  many  a  spot  the  tartan  peered  above  the  wintry  heap, 
Marking  where  a  dead  Macdonald  lay  within  his  frozen  sleep. 


3SO  FIFTH    READER. 

Tremblingly  we  scooped  the  covering  from  each  kindred  victim's 

head, 

And  the  living  lips  were  burning  on  the  cold  ones  of  the  dead. 
And   I   left    them   with   their   dearest  — dearest    charge    had  every 

one  — 
Left  the  maiden  with  her  lover,  left  the  mother  with  her  son. 

I  alone  of  all  was  mateless— far  more  wretched  I  than  they, 
For  the  snow  would  not  discover  where  my  lord  and  husband  lay; 
But^I  wandered  up  the  valley,  till  I  found  him  lying  low, 
With  the  gash  upon  his  bosom  and  the  frown  upon  his  brow  — 
Till  I  found  him.  lying  murdered,  where  he  wooed  me  long  ago  1 

Woman's    weakness    shall    not    shame    me— why    should    I    have 

tears  to  ^fted? 

Could  I  rain  them  down  like  water,   O  my  hero  !   on  thy  head  — 
Could  the  cry  of  lamentation  wake  thee  from  thy  silent  sleep, 
Could   it   set   thy   heart   a-throbbing,  it   were   mine   to    wail   and 

weep  I 

But  I  will  not  waste  my  sorrow,  lest  the  Campbell^  women  say 
That   the    daughters    of    ClanranaldN    are    as    weak    and    frail    as 

they. 

I   had   wept    thee    hadst    thou    fallen,    like    our    fathers,    on    thy 

shield, 

When  a  host  of  English  foemen  camped  upon  a  Scottish  field  N_ 
I  had  mourned  thee,  hadst    thou   perished  with  the  foremost  of 

his  name,    ' 
When    the    valiant    and    the    noble    died    around     the    dauntless 

Q-raeme  I  N 
But    I    will    not    wrong    thee,    husband  1    with    my    unavailing 

cries, 
Whilst   thy  cold  and  mangled  body  stricken  by  the  traitor  lies ; 

Whilst  he  counts  the  gold  and  glory  that  this  hideous  night  has 

won, 

And  his  heart  is  "big  with  triumph  at  the  murder  he  has  done. 
Other    eyes    than    mine    shall    glisten,    other    hearts    be    rent    in 

twain, 
Ere  the  heath-bells  on  thy  hillock  wither  in  the  autumn  rain. 


'But    I    -wandered    up   the   vallev,   till    I    found    him    lying    low- 
Till    I    found   him   lying  murdered,   where   he  wcped    me  long 
ago!"      (See   page   33O,) 


FIFTH    READER. 


331 


Then  I'll  see  thee  -where   thou   sleepest,  and   I'll   veil   my   -weary 

head, 

Praying  for  a  place  "beside  thee,  dearer  than  my  bridal  bed : 
And  I'll  give  thee  tears,  my  husband,  if  the  tears  remain  to  me, 
When  the  widows  of  the  foeman  cry  the  coranach  for  thee  1 

Biography.  —  William  Edmondstoune  Aytoun  (1813-1865),  the 
writer  of  this  poem,  is  -well  known  as  the  author  of  "Lays  of  the 
Scottish  Cavaliers." 

Notes.— Glencoe  is  a  valley  in  Argyleshire,  Scotland,  well  known 
not  only  for  the  terrible  massacre  of  the  Macdonalds  referred  to 
in  the  poem,  but  also  for  the  wildness  and  grandeur  of  its 
scenery.  The  Cona,  a  mountain  stream,  flows  through  the  valley. 

Before  daylight,  on  the  morning  of  February  13,  1692,  Captain 
Campbell,  of  Glenlyon,  with  a  party  of  soldiers,  mostly  of  the 
Campbell  clan,  surprised  the  Macdonalds  and  slew  nearly  forty 
of  them.  After  the  massacre,  the  huts  of  the  village  were  burned, 
and  the  valley  has  been  uninhabited  ever  since. 

Muir  (mur)  is  the  Scottish  word  for  moor  or  heath  —  a  piece 
of  land  of  little  value  on  account  of  its  thin,  poor  soil.  The 
heath-flowers  or  heather-bells  are  very  beautiful. 

Clan  ran' aid  is  anothe^name  for  the  Macdonald  clan. 

Graeme  (gram)  refers  to  James  Graham,  Marquis  of  Montrose, 
who  was  executed  in  Edinburgh,  for  an  attempt  to  restore  Charles 
II.  to  the  throne.  Graham  was  an  enemy  of  the  Campbell  clan. 

field,  as  used  in  the  lesson,  means  a  field  of  battle. 


.  — THE     SKY. 


vls'taig,  mews;  scenes. 

£m'  e  raid,  a  precious  stone  of  a 

rich  green  color. 

am'  ber,  a  hard,  yellow  substance. 
trans  mit',  let  pass  through. 


pal' pi  tat  ing,  throbbing. 
riex,  a  kind  of  evergreen  tree. 
II'  -el^en,  a  kind  of  moss. 
tab'er  na  -el^,  sacred  place. 
buQy'ant  (or  bw6\yr),  cheerful. 


Not  long-  ago  I  was  slowly  descending  the  car- 
riage road  after  you  leave  Albano.N  It  had  been  wild 
weather  when  I  left  Rome,  and  all  across  the  Cam- 
pagnaN  the  clouds  were  sweeping  in  sulphurous 
blue,  with  a  clap  of  thunder  or  two,  and  breaking 


332  FIFTH    READER. 

gleams  of  sunlight  along  the  Claudian  Aqueduct N 
lighting  up  its  arches  like  the  bridge  of  chaos. 

As  I  climbed  the  long  slope  of  the  AlbanN  mount, 
the  storm  swept  finally  to  the  north,  and  the 
noble  outlines  of  the  domes  of  Albano  and  the 
graceful  darkness  of  its  ilex  grove  rose  against  pure 
streaks  of  alternate  blue  and  amber,  the  upper  sky 
gradually  flushing  through  the  last  fragments  of 
rain-cloud  in  deep,  palpitating  azure,  half  ether  and 
half  dew. 

The  noonday  sun  came  slanting  down  the  rocky 
slopes  of  La  Ricca,  and  its  masses  of  entangled  and 
tall  foliage,  whose  autumnal  tints  were  mixed  with 
the  wet  verdure  of  a  thousand  evergreens,  and  were 
penetrated  with  it  as  with  rain. 

I  can  not  call  it  color,  it  was  conflagration. 
Purple,  and  crimson,  and  scarle||  like  the  curtains  of 
Q-od's  tabernacle,  the  rejoicing  trees  sunk  into  the 
valley  in  showers  of  light,  every  separate  leaf  quiv- 
ering with  buoyant  and  burning  life,  each,  as  it 
turned  to  reflect  or  to  transmit  the  sunbeam,  first 
a  torch  and  then  an  emerald. 

Far  up  into  the  recesses  of  the  valley  the  green 
vistas,  arched  like  the  hollows  of  mighty  waves 
of  some  crystalline  sea,  with  the  arbutus  flowers 
dashed  along  their  flanks  like  foam,  and  silver 
flashes  of  orange  spray  tossed  into  the  air  around 
them,  breaking  over  the  gray  walls  of  rock  into  a 
thousand  separate  stars,  fading  and  kindling  alter- 
nately, as  the  weak  Avind  lifted  and  let  fall. 

Every  blade  of  grass  burned  like  the  golden  floor 
of  heaven,  opening  in  sudden  gleams  as  the  foliage 
broke  and  closed  above  it,  as  sheet  lightning  opens 
in  a  cloud  at  sunset  the  motionless  masses  of  dark 


FIFTH    READER.  333 

rocks— dark,  though,  flushed  with  scarlet  lichen, 
(Casting  their  quiet  shadows  across  its  restless  radi- 
ance, the  fountain  underneath  them  filling  its 
marble  hollow  with  "blue  mist  and  fitful  sound,  and, 
over  all,  the  multitudinous  bars  of  amber  and  rose, 
the  sacred  clouds  that  have  no  darkness,  and  only 
exist  to  illuminate,  were  seen  in  intervals  between 
the  solemn  and  orbed  repose  of  the  stone  pines, 
passing  to  lose  themselves  in  the  last,  white,  blind- 
ing luster  of  the  measureless  line  where  the  Cam- 
pagna  melted  into  the  blaze  of  the  sea. 

Are  not  all  natural  things,  it  may  be  asked,  as 
lovely  near,  as  far  away?  By  no  means.  Look  at 
the  clouds  and  watch  the  delicate  sculpture  of  their 
alabaster  sides,  and  the  rounded  luster  of  their  mag- 
nificent rolling !  They  are  meant  to  be  beheld  far 
away :  they  were  shaped  for  the  place  high  above 
your  head :  approach  them  and  they  fuse  into  vague 
mists,  or  whirl  away  in  fierce  fragments  of  thun- 
derous vapor. 

Look  at  the  crest  of  the  Alps  from  the  far  away 
plains,  over  which  its  light  is  cast,  whence  human 
souls  have  communed  with  it  by  their  myriads.  It 
was  built  for  its  place  in  the  far  off  sky;  approach 
it,  and  as  the  sound  of  the  voice  of  man  dies  away 
about  its  foundations,  and  the  tide  of  human  life 
is  met  at  last  by  the  eternal  "  Here  shall  thy  waves 
be  stayed,"  the  glory  of  its  aspect  fades  into  blanched 
fearfulness:  its  purple  walls  are  rent  into  grizzly 
rocks,  its  silver  fretwork  saddened  into  wasting 
snow;  the  storm  brands  of  ages  are  on  its  breast; 
the  ashes  of  its  own  ruin  lie  solemnly  on  its  white 
raiment. 

If  you  desire  to  perceive  the  great  harmonies  of 


334  FIFTH    READER. 

the  form  of  a  rocky  mountain,  you  must  not  ascend 
upon  its  sides.  All  there  is  disorder  and  accident, 
or  seems  so.  Retire  from  it,  and  as  your  eye  com- 
mands it  more  and  more,  you  see  the  ruined  moun- 
tain world  with  a  wider  glance ;  behold  !  dim  sym- 
pathies "begin  to  busy  themselves  in  the  disjointed 
mass :  line  binds  itself  into  stealthy  fellowship  with 
line;  group  by  group  the  helpless  fragments  gather 
themselves  into  ordered  companies:  new  captains  of 
hosts  and  masses  of  battalions  become  visible  one  by 
one;  and  far  away  answers  of  foot  to  foot,  and  bone 
to  bone,  until  the  powerless  is  seen  risen  up  with 
girded  loins,  and  not  one  piece  of  all  the  unregarded 
heap  can  now  be  spared  from  the  mystic  whole. 

JOHN  RUSKIN. 

Biography.— John  Buskin,  one  of  the  most  noted  of  art  critics, 
•was  born  in  London  in  1819,  and  graduated  at  Oxford  University 
in  1842. 

The  year  after  graduation,  the  first  volume  of  his  work  on 
"Modern  Painters"  was  published,  and  the  young  author  found 
himself  assailed  on  all  sides  on  account  of  his  independent  views 
upon  painting  and  painters.  Ruskin  believed  in  the  worth  of 
modern  talent,  and  scorned  to  bow  before  the  ancient  models  so 
blindly  adhered  to  by  others.  His  influence  has  been  toward 
progress,  and  his  earnest  and  conscientious  views  have  found 
many  supporters.  He  was  appointed  Professor  of  Art  at  Oxford 
in  1869.  His  style  as  a  writer  is  excellent. 

Of  his  -works  -we  may  mention  the  following:  "Seven  Lamps 
of  Architecture,"  "The  Queen  of  the  Air,"  "The  Eagle's  Nest," 
"Lectures  on  Architecture  and  Painting,"  and  his  greatest  work, 
"Modern  Painters." 

Notes.  —  Albano  (alba/no)  is  a  town  in  Italy,  about  twelve  miles 
from  Rome. 

Campayna  (cam  pan'ya),  a  very  fertile  plain,  near  Rome. 

Clatydian  A.q'ueduct,  a  famous  bridge  of  many  arches  across  the 
Campagna,  erected  to  convey  a  supply  of  water  to  the  city  of 
Rome,  and  finished  by  the  Emperor  Claudius  in  the  year  51. 
The  ruins  of  this  aqueduct  present  an  interesting  sight. 

The  Alban  Mount  is  a  mountain  3,000  feet  high  near  Lake  Al- 
bano. 


FIFTH    READER. 


336 


.— A     DINNER     PARTY     IN    ANCIENT    THEBES.N 
(1311-1245  B.  C.) 


pal'  an  ke^n'  (par an  ken),  a  cov- 
^red  conveyance  used  in  the  East. 

san'  dal§,  coverings  for  the  soles  of 
the  feet. 

stu-e'-eo^d,  plastered. 

€U^§,  twists  of  hair. 

•e6r'ri  dorg,  long  passage  ways. 


hl'e  ro  gl^ph'i-es  (glif ),  the  pict- 
ure-writing of  the  Egyptians. 
am'  u  let,  a  charm  against  evil. 
•eom'ment  ing,  remarking. 
-eardrong  (kawrdriing),  kettles. 
por'  §us,  full  of  minute  holes. 
•eul'mi  nat  ing,  greatest. 


The  Labyrinth.1*  has  stood  for  nearly  seven  cent- 
uries. During  this  time  the  Shepherd  kings N  have 
had  their  sway  and  been  expelled.  The  XVIIIth 
dynasty,  including  the  long  and  brilliant  reign  of 
Thothmes  III.,  has  passed  away,  leaving  behind  it 
temples,  obelisks,  and  tombs  of  marvelous  magnifi- 
cence. Thebes  is  at  the  height  of  that  architect- 
ural triumph  which  is  to  make  her  the  wonder 
of  succeeding  ages. 

Meantime,  what  of  the  people?  Let  us  invite 
ourselves  to  a  dinner  party  in  Theban  high  life. 
The  time  is  midday,  and  the  guests  are  arriving 
on  foot,  in  palankeens  borne  by  servants,  and  in 
chariots.  A  high  wall,  painted  in  panels,  sur- 
rounds the  fashionable  villa,  and  on  an  obelisk 
near  by  is  inscribed  the  name  of  the  owner.  We 
enter  the  grounds  by  a  folding  gate  flanked  with 
lofty  towers. 

At  the  end  of  a  broad  avenue,  bordered  by  rows 
of  trees  and  spacious  water  tanks,  stands  a  stuc- 
coed brick  mansion,  over  the  door  of  which  we 
read  in  hieroglyphics,  "The  Good  House."  The 
building  is  made  airy  by  corridors,  and  columns, 


336  FIFTH    READER. 

and  open  courts  shadowed  by  awnings,  all  gayly 
painted  and  ornamented  "by  banners.  Its  extensive 
grounds  include  flower  gardens,  vineyards,  date, 
orchards  and  sycamore  trees. 

There  are  little  summer-houses,  and  artificial 
ponds  from  which  rises  the  sweet,  sleepy  perfume 
of  the  lotus  blossom;  here  the  genial  host  some- 
times amuses  his  guests  by  an  excursion  in  a  pleas- 
ure boat  towed  by  his  servants.  The  stables  and 
chariot  houses  are  in  the  center  of  the  mansion, 
but  the  cattle  sheds  and  granaries  are  detached. 

We  will  accompany  the  guest  whose  chariot 
has  just  halted.  The  Egyptian  nobleman  drives  his 
own  horse,  but  is  attended  by  a  train  of  servants; 
one  of  these  runs  forward  to  knock  at  the  door, 
another  takes  the  reins,  another  presents  a  stool  to 
assist  his  master  to  alight,  and  others  are  present 
with  various  articles  which  he  may  desire  during 
the  visit. 

As  the  guest  steps  into  the  court,  a  servant  re- 
ceives his  sandals  and  brings  a  foot  pan  that  he  may 
wash  his  feet.  He  is  then  invited  into  the  festive 
chamber,  where  side  by  side  on  a  double  chair,  to 
which  their  favorite  monkey  is  tied,  sits  his  placid 
host  and  hostess,  blandly  smelling  their  lotus 
flowers  and  beaming  a  welcome  to  each  arrival. 
They  are  dressed  like  their  guests. 

On  his  shaven  head  the  Egyptian  gentleman 
wears  a  wig  with  little  top  curls,  and  long  cues 
which  hang  behind.  His  beard  is  short  — a  long  one 
is  only  for  the  king.  His  large  sleeved,  fluted  robe 
is  of  fine,  white  linen,  and  he  is  adorned  with  neck- 
lace, bracelets,  and  a  multitude  of  finger  rings. 

The   lady   by  his   side   wears   also   a  linen   robe 


FIFTH    READER.  337 

over  one  of  a  richly  colored  stuff.  Her  liair  falls 
to  lier  shoulders  front  and  back,  in  scores  of  crisp 
and  glossy  braids.  The  brilliancy  of  her  eyes  is 
heightened  by  antimony;  and  amulet  beetles,  drag- 
ons, asps,  and  strange,  symbolic  eyes,  dangle  from 
her  gold  ear-rings,  bracelets,  necklace,  and  anklets. 

Having  saluted  his  entertainers,  the  new-comer  is 
seated  on  a  low  stool,  where  a  servant  anoints  his 
bewigged  head  with  sweet-scented  ointment,  hands 
him  a  lotus  blossom,  hangs  garlands  of  flowers 
on  his  neck  and  head,  and  presents  him  with 
wine.  The  servant,  as  he  receives  back  the  emptied 
vase  and  offers  a  napkin,  politely  remarks,  "  May  it 
benefit  you."  This  completes  the  formal  reception. 

Every  lady  is  attended  in  the  same  manner  by 
a  female  slave.  While  the  guests  are  arriving,  the 
musicians  and  dancers  belonging  to  the  household 
amuse  the  company,  who  sit  on  chairs  in  rows 
and  chat,  the  ladies  commenting  on  one  another's 
jewelry,  and,  in  compliment,  exchanging  lotus 
flowers. 

The  house  is  furnished  with  couches,  arm-chairs, 
ottomans,  and  footstools  made  of  the  native  acacia 
or  of  ebony  and  other  rare,  imported  woods,  inlaid 
with  ivory,  carved  in  animal  forms,  and  cushioned 
and  covered  with  leopard  skins.  The  ceilings  are 
stuccoed  and  painted,  and  the  panels  of  the  walls 
adorned  with  colored  designs.  The  tables  are  of 
various  sizes  and  fanciful  patterns.  The  floor  is 
covered  with  a  palm  leaf  matting,  or  wool  carpet. 

In  the  bedrooms  are  high  couches  reached  by 
steps;  the  pillows  are  made  of  wood  or  alabaster. 
There  are  many  elegant  toilet  conveniences,  such 
as  polished  bronze  mirrors,  fancy  bottles  for  the 


338  FIFTH     READER. 

kohl  with  which  the  ladies  stain  their  brows  and 
eyelids,  alabaster  vases  for  sweet-scented  ointments, 
and  trinket  boxes  shaped  like  a  goose,  a  fish,  or  a 
human  dwarf. 

Every- where  throughout  the  house  is  a  profusion 
of  flowers  hanging  in  festoons,  clustered  on  stands, 
and  crowning  the  wine  bowl.  Not  only  the  guests 
but  the  attendants  are  wreathed,  and  fresh  blos- 
soms are  constantly  brought  in  from  the  garden 
to  replace  those  which  are  fading. 

And  now  the  ox,  kid,  geese,  and  ducks,  which, 
according  to  custom,  have  been  hurried  into  the 
cooking  caldrons  as  soon  as  killed,  are  ready  to  be 
served.  After  hand-washing  and  saying  of  grace, 
the  guests  are  seated  on  stools,  chairs,  or  the  floor, 
one  or  two  at  each  little,  low,  round  table.  The 
dishes,  many  of  which  are  vegetables,  are  served  in 
courses,  and  the  guests,  having  neither  knife  nor 
fork,  help  themselves  with  their  fingers.  Mean- 
time, a  special  corps  of  servants  keep  the  wine  and 
water  cool  by  vigorously  fanning  the  porous  jars 
which  contain  them. 

During  the  repast,  when  the  enjoyment  is  at  its 
height,  the  Osiris— an.  image  like  a  human  mummy 
—is  brought  in  and  formally  introduced  to  each 
visitor  with  the  reminder  that  life  is  short,  and  all 
must  die.  This  little  incident  does  not  in  the  least 
disturb  the  placidity  of  the  happy  guests. 

There  is  one,  however,  to  whom  the  injunction 
is  not  given,  and  who,  though  anointed  and  gar- 
landed and  duly  placed  at  a  table,  does  not  par- 
take of  the  delicacies  set  before  him.  This  is  a  real 
mummy,  a  dear  deceased  member  of  the  family, 
whom  the  host  is  keeping  some  months  before 


FIFTH    READER.  339 

burial,  being  loath  to  part  with  him.  It  is  in  his 
honor,  indeed,  that  the  relatives  and  friends  are 
assembled,  and  the  presence  of  a  beloved  mummy, 
whose  soul  is  journeying  toward  the  Pools  of  Peace, 
is  the  culminating  pleasure  of  an  Egyptian  party. 

MRS.  J.  DORMAN  STEELE. 


—  Thebes,  the  ancient  capital  of  Upper  Egypt,  -was  situ- 
ated in  the  broadest  part  of  the  Nile  valley.  Its  ruins  comprise 
nine  townships.  With  its  20,000  war  chariots,  its  vast  wealth, 
and  its  marvelous  "buildings,  it  was  in  ancient  times  the  most 
powerful  and  important  city  in  the  world.  To-day,  a  few  Arab 
families  are  located  near  its  site,  and  gain  a  scanty  living  by 
showing  to  travelers  the  ruins  of  the  once  proud  city. 

jjtib'y  rlnth,  the  name  of  a  wonderful  structure  at  Croc  o  di  lop'- 
o  lis,  Egypt,  consisting  of  twelve  palaces  under  one  roof,  sup- 
posed to  have  been  inhabited  by  twelve  kings  who  ruled  at  the 
same  time.  The  passages  throughout  the  structure  are  so  mingled 
together,  that  a  guide  is  needed  to  show  the  way.  The  age  of 
the  building  is  estimated  to  be  about  3,900  years. 

The  Shepherd  kings,  supposed  to  have  been  Ar'abs,  obtained  con- 
trol of  Lower  Egypt  about  2000  B.  C.  They  were  finally  conquered 
and  driven  out  by  the  rulers  of  Upper  Egypt. 

Language.  —  Use  each  of  the  following  words  in  a  separate 
sentence,  and  explain  the  difference  in  their  meaning  :  pleasure, 
enjoyment,  delight. 


76.—  VIRGINIUS. 


sew'er  (su'er),  a  passage  under 
ground  to  carry  off  water  or  filth. 
re^k'ing,  steaming. 
glo^t,  gaze;  look. 
9!  v'  i-e,  relating  to  a  city  or  citizen. 


sham'bl^i=>,  a  place  where  butch- 
ers' meat  is  sold. 
be  reft',  robbed. 
le^ch,  doctor. 
a  vert'  ed,  turned  away. 


Straightway  VirginiusN  led  the  maid  a  little  space  aside, 

To  -where  the   reeking   shambles   stood,    piled   up   with   horn   and 

hide, 

Close  to  yon  low,  dark  archway,  where,   in  a  crimson  flood, 
Leaps  down  to  the  great  sewer  the  gurgling  stream  of  blood. 


34O  FIFTH    READER. 

Hard  by,  a  flesher  N  on  a  block  had  laid  his  whittle  N  down ; 
Virginius  caught  the  whittle  up,   and  hid  it  in  his  gown. 
And  then  his  eyes  grew  very  dim,  and  his  throat  began  to  swell, 
And  in  a  hoarse,  changed  voice  he  spoke,  "Farewell,  sweet  child, 
farewell  1 

*'O  how  I  loved  my  darling!     Though  stern  I  sometimes  be, 
To  thee,  thou  knowest,  I  was  not  so.     Who  could  be  so  to  thee? 
And  how  my  darling  loved  me  1     How  glad  she  was  to  hear 
My  footstep  on  the  threshold  when  I  came  back  last  year! 

"And  how  she  danced  with  pleasure  to  see  my  civic  crown, 
And  took  my  sword  and  hung   it   up,  and  brought  me  forth  my 

gown  I 

Now  all  these  things  are  over — yes,  all  thy  pretty  ways, 
Thy  needle-work,  thy  prattle,  thy  snatches  of  old  lays ; 
And  none  will   grieve  when  I  go   forth,   or  smile  when  I  return, 
Or  watch  beside  the  old  man's  bed,   or  weep  upon  his  urn. 

"The  house  that  was  the  happiest  within  the  Roman  walls, 
The  house  that  envied  not  the   wealth  of  Capua's  N  marble  halls, 
Now,  for  the  brightness  of  thy  smile,  must  have  eternal  gloom; 
And  for  the  music  of  thy  voice,  the  silence  of  the  tomb. 

"The  time  is  come.  See  how  he  points  his  eager  hand  this  way  ! 
See  how  his  eyes  gloat  on  thy  grief,  like  a  kite's  upon  the  prey  ! 
With  all  his  wit,  he  little  deems  that,  spurned,  betrayed,  bereft, 
Thy  father  hath  in  his  despair  one  fearful  refuge  left. 

"He  little  deems  that  in  this  hand  I  clutch  -what  still  can  save 
Thy  gentle  youth  from  taunts  and  blows,  the  portion  of  the 

slave ; 

Yea,   and  from  nameless  evil,  that  passeth  taunt  and  blow  — 
Foul   outrage   which   thou    knowest    not,   which   thou  shalt  never 

know. 

"Then    clasp   me   round   the   neck   once   more,   and  give   me   one 

more  kiss ; 

And  now,  mine  own  dear  little   girl,  there  is  no  way  but  this." 
With  that  he  lifted  high  the  steel,   and  smote  her  in  the  side, 
And  in  her  blood  She  sunk  to  earth,   and  with  one  sob  she  died, 


"See   how   his   eyes   gloat   on    thy   grief,    like   a   kite's 
upon   the    prey."      (See    page    34O.) 


FIFTH    READER,  341 

Then,  for  a  little  moment,  all  people  held  their  breath; 
And  through  the  crowded  forum  was  stillness  as  of  death; 
And  in  another  moment  broke  forth  from  one  and  all 
A  cry  as  if  the  "VolsciansN  were  coming  o'er  the  wall. 

Some  with  averted  faces,  shrieking,  fled  home  amain; 
Some  ran  to  call  a  leech,  and  some  ran  to  lift  the  slain : 
Some  felt  her  lips  and  little  wrist,  if  life  might  there  be  found; 
And  some  tore  up  their  garments  fast,  and  strove  to  stanch  the 

wound, 

In  vain  they  ran  and  felt  and  stanched;   for  never  truer  blow 
That  good  right  arm  had  dealt  in  fight  against  a  Volscian  foe. 

LORD  MACAULAY. 


Biography.  —  Thomas  Babington  Macaulay  was  born  in  Leicester- 
shire (Les'ter  sheer),  England,  in  1800,  and  died  in  1859. 

Macaulay  entered  Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  at  the  age  of 
eighteen,  where  he  soon  acquired  prominence  for  scholarship  and 
oratorical  power.  He  twice  won  the  Chancellor's  Medal  for  poems, 
and  graduated  in  1822.  He  was  soon  elected  to  a  fellowship,  and 
entered  upon  a  literary  life.  His  ballads,— " The  Spanish  Armada" 
and  "The  Battle  of  Ivry,"  and  his  essay  on  Milton,  gave  him  a 
wide  popularity.  In  1826,  he  began  to  practice  law,  and  in  1830, 
entered  Parliament.  After  an  eventful  and  highly  useful  career, 
he  was  raised  to  the  peerage  in  1857,  with  the  title  of  Baron 
Macaulay.  As  a  writer,  his  style  is  both  vigorous  and  polished. 

His  best  known  works  are  "Lays  of  Ancient  Borne,"  "Essays," 
and  "History  of  England." 

Notes.—  "Virginius,  after  slaying  his  daughter  to  save  her  from 
the  tyrant  Ap'piiis,  appealed  to  tho  Roman  army  for  vengeance. 
The  army  responded,— the  tyrant  was  overpowered  and  consigned 
to  prison,  where  he  took  his  own  life.  The  unhappy  fate  of  Vir- 
ginia, the  daughter,  Was  thus  followed  by  the  restoration  of  free- 
dom to  the  Roman  people. 

Flcsher,  a  butcher.      Whittle,  a  butcher's  knife. 

Cap'ua,  a  city  of  Southern  Italy,  second  only  to  ancient  Rome 
in  wealth  and  power.  The  buildings  of  the  city  were  noted  for 
their  magnificence. 

Vdl'scians  (shuns).  The  Vol'sei,  an  ancient  barbaric  race,  were 
much  dreaded  by  the  Romans.  They  were  in  the  habit  of  mak- 
ing expeditions  against  Rome.  In  the  fourth  century  B.  C.,  they 
were  finally  subdued  by  the  Romans  and  admitted  to  the  rights 
of  Roman  citizenship. 


342 


FIFTH    READER 


77.—  THE     DISCOVERY     OF     AMERICA. 

PA  RT      I. 


ad/  mi  ral,  a  nwal  officer  of  the 

highest  rank. 

an  ti9'i  pa'tiong,  hopes. 
•eu  pid'i  ty,  greediness. 
transient  (titm' shent),  passing. 
af  f  irm'  ing,  declaring. 


tin'  du  la'  tion,   waving 

ment. 

mu'ti  nfc^us,  rebellious. 
av'a  rl9^,  great  desire  of  gain. 
re  fraet'o  ry,  unruly. 
•e6n'  stan  £y,  steadiness. 


Early  in  the  morning  of  the  6th  of  September, 
1492,  Columbus N  set  sail  from  the  island  of  G-omera, 
and  now  might  be  said  first  to  strike  into  the  region 
of  discovery,  taking  leave  of  these  frontier  islands  ' 
of  the  Old  World,  and  steering  westward  for  the 
unknown  parts  of  the  Atlantic.  For  three  days, 
however,  a  profound  calm  kept  the  vessels  loitering 
with  nagging  sails  within  a  short  distance  of  the 
land. 

On  the  following  Sunday,  the  9th  of  September, 
at  day-break,  he  beheld  Ferro,  the  last  of  the  Canary 
Islands,  about  nine  leagues  distant.  Fortunately  a 
breeze  sprung  up  with  the  sun,  their  sails  were 
once  more  filled,  and  in  the  course  of  the  day  the 
heights  of  Ferro  gradually  faded  from  the  horizon. 

On  losing  sight  of  this  last  trace  of  land  the 
hearts  of  the  crew  failed  them.  Behind  them  was 
every  thing  dear  to  the  heart  of  man— country, 
family,  friends,  life  itself;  before  them  every  thing 
was  chaos,  mystery,  and  peril.  Many  of  the  rugged 
seamen  shed  tears,  and  some  broke  into  loud  lam- 
entations. 

The  admiral  tried  in  every  way  to  soothe  their 
distress,  and  inspire  them  with  his  own  glorious 


FIFTH    READER.  343 

anticipations.  He  described  to  them  the  magnifi- 
cent countries  to  which  he  was  about  to  conduct 
them:  the  isles  of  the  Indian  seas  teeming  with 
gold  and  precious  stones.  He  promised  them  land 
and  riches,  and  every  thing  that  could  arouse  their 
cupidity  or  inflame  their  imaginations. 

He  now  issued  orders  to  the  commanders  of  the 
other  vessels  that  in  the  event  of  separation  by 
any  accident,  they  should  continue  directly  west- 
ward; but  that,  after  sailing  seven  hundred  leagues, 
they  should  lay  by  from  midnight  until  daylight, 
as  at  about  that  distance  he  confidently  expected 
to  find  land. 

To  deceive  the  sailors  he  kept  two  reckonings; 
one  correct,  in  which  the  true  way  of  the  ship  was 
noted,  and  which  he  retained  in  secret  for  his  own 
government;  in  the  other,  which  was  open  to  gen- 
eral inspection,  a  number  of  leagues  was  daily  sub- 
tracted from  the  sailing  of  the  ship,  so  that  the 
crews  were  kept  in  ignorance  of  the  real  distance 
they  had  advanced. 

On  the  14th  of  September,  the  voyagers  were 
rejoiced  by  what  they  considered  indications  of 
land.  A  heron  and  a  certain  tropical  bird,  neither 
of  which  is  supposed  to  venture  far  to  sea,  hovered 
about  the  ships. 

The  wind  had  hitherto  been  favorable,  with  oc- 
casional though  transient  clouds  and  showers.  They 
had  made  great  progress  every  day,  though  Colum- 
bus, according  to  his  secret  plan,  contrived  to  sup- 
press several  leagues  in  the  daily  reckonings  left 
open  to  the  crew. 

On  the  18th  of  September  the  same  weather 
continued;  a  soft  steady  breeze  from  the  east  filled 


344  FIFTH    READER. 

every  sail,  while  Columbus  fancied  that  the  water 
of  the  sea  grew  fresher  as  he  advanced,  and  noticed 
this  as  a  proof  of  the  superior  sweetness  and  purity 
of  the  air. 

The  crews  were  all  in  high  spirits;  each  ship 
strove  to  get  in  the  advance,  and  every  seaman 
was  eagerly  on  the  lookout ;  for  the  sovereign  had 
promised  a  pension  of  ten  thousand  maravediesN  to 
him  who  should  first  discover  land. 

Notwithstanding  his  precaution  to  keep  the 
people  ignorant  of  the  distance  they  had  sailed, 
they  were  now  growing  extremely  uneasy  at  the 
length  of  the  voyage.  They  had  advanced  much 
farther  west  than  ever  man  had  sailed  before,  and 
though  already  beyond  the  reach  of  succor,  still 
they  continued  daily  leaving  vast  tracts  of  ocean 
behind  them,  and  pressing  onward  and  onward  into 
that  apparently  boundless  abyss. 

On  the  20th  of  September,  the  wind  veered,  with 
light  breezes  from  the  south-west.  These,  though 
adverse  to  their  progress,  had  a  cheering  effect 
upon  the  people,  as  they  proved  that  the  wind  did 
not  always  prevail  from  the  east.  Several  birds 
also  visited  the  ships;  three  of  a  small  kind,  which 
keep  about  groves  and  orchards,  came  singing  in 
the  morning  and  flew  away  again  in  the  evening. 
Their  song  cheered  the  hearts  of  the  dismayed 
mariners,  who  hailed  it  as  the  voice  of  land.  The 
larger  fowl,  they  observed,  were  strong  of  wing, 
and  might  venture  far  to  sea;  but  such  small  birds 
were  too  feeble  to  fly  far,  and  their  singing  showed 
that  they  were  not  exhausted  by  their  flight. 

For  three  days  there  was  a  continuance  of  light 
summer  airs  from  the  southward  and  westward, 


FIFTH    READER.  848 

and  the  sea  was  as  smooth  as  a  mirror.  A  whale 
was  seen  heaving  up  its  huge  form  at  a  distance, 
which  Columbus  immediately  pointed  out  as  a  fa- 
vorable indication,  affirming  that  these  creatures 
were  generally  seen  in  the  neighborhood  of  land. 

The  crews  however  became  uneasy  at  the  calm- 
ness of  the  'weather.  Every  thing  differed,  they 
said,  in  these  strange  regions,  from  the  world  to 
which  they  had  been  accustomed.  The  only  winds 
which  prevailed  with  any  constancy  and  force  were 
from  the  east,  and  there  was  a  risk,  therefore,  either 
of  perishing  amidst  stagnant  and  shoreless  waters, 
or  of  being  prevented,  by  contrary  winds,  from  ever 
returning  to  their  native  country. 

Columbus  continued  with  admirable  patience  to 
reason  with  these  fancies;  observing  that  the  calm- 
ness of  the  sea  must  undoubtedly  be  caused  by  the 
vicinity  of  land  in  the  quarter  whence  the  wind 
blew,  which,  therefore,  had  not  space  to  act  upon 
the  surface,  and  heave  up  large  waves. 

The  more  Columbus  argued,  the  more  boisterous 
became  the  murmurs  of  the  crew,  until,  on  Sun- 
day, the  25th  of  September,  there  came  on  a  heavy 
swell  of  the  sea,  unaccompanied  by  wind.  This 
phenomenon  often  occurs  on  the  broad  ocean ;  being 
either  the  expiring  undulation  of  some  past  gale, 
or  the  movement  given  to  the  sea  by  some  distant 
current  of  wind.  It  was  nevertheless  regarded 
with  astonishment  by  the  mariners,  and  dispelled 
the  imaginary  terrors  occasioned  by  the  calm. 

The  situation  of  Columbus  was,  however,  becom- 
ing daily  more  and  more  critical.  In  proportion 
as  he  approached  the  regions  where  he  expected  to 
find  land,  the  impatience  of  his  crew  increased. 


346  FIFTH    READER. 

What  was   to   become   of  them   should   their  provi- 
sions fail? 

Their  ships  were  too  weak  and  defective  even 
for  the  great  voyage  they  had  already  made,  but  if 
they  were  still  to  press  forward,  adding  at  every 
moment  to  the  immense  expanse  behind  them,  how 
should  they  ever  be  able  to  return,  having  no  inter- 
vening port  where  they  might  victual  and  rent? 

They  had  already  penetrated  unknown  seas,  un- 
traversed  by  a  sail,  far.  beyond  where  man  had  ever 
before  ventured.  They  had  done  enough  to  gain  for 
themselves  a  character  for  courage  and  hardihood 
in  undertaking  such  an  enterprise,  and  persisting 
in  it  so  far.  How  much  farther  were  they  to  go 
in  search  of  a  merely  conjectured  land?  Were  they 
to  sail  on  until  they  perished,  or  until  -all  return 
became  impossible  ?  In  such  case  they  would  be 
the  authors  of  their  own  destruction. 

Columbus  was  not  ignorant  of  the  mutinous 
disposition  of  his  crew,  but  he  still  maintained  a 
serene  and  steady  countenance,  soothing  some  with 
gentle  words,  endeavoring  to  stimulate  the  pride  or 
avarice  of  others,  and  openly  menacing  the  refrac- 
tory with  signal  punishment  should  they  do  any 
thing  to  impede  the  voyage. 

On  the  25th  of  September,  the  wind  again  became 
favorable,  and  they  were  able  to  resume  their  course 
directly  to  the  west.  While  Columbus,  his  pilot,  and 
several  of  his  experienced  mariners  were  studying 
a  map,  and  endeavoring  to  make  out  from  it 
their  actual  position,  they  heard  a  shout  from 
the  Pinta,  and  looking  up  beheld  Martin  Alonzo 
Pinzon  mounted  on  the  stem  of  his  vessel,  crying, 
"Land!  Land!  Seiior,  I  claim  my  reward!"  He 


FIFTH    READER.  347 

pointed  at  the  same  time  to  the  south-west,  where 
there  was  indeed  an  appearance  of  land  in  the  dis- 
tance. Upon  this,  Columbus  threw  himself  upon 
his  knees,  and  returned  thanks  to  God. 

The  seamen  now  mounted  to  the  mast-head,  or 
climbed  about  the  rigging,  straining  their  eyes  in 
the  direction  pointed  out.  The  conviction  became 
so  general  of  land  in  that  quarter,  and  the  joy  of 
the  people  so  ungovernable,  that  Columbus  found 
it  necessary  to  vary  from  his  usual  course,  and 
stand  all  night  to  the  south-west. 

The  morning  light  however  put  an  end  to  their 
hopes,  as  to  a  dream.  The  fancied  land  proved  to 
be  nothing  but  an  evening  cloud,  and  had  vanished 
in  the  night.  With  dejected  hearts  they  once  more 
resumed  their  western  course,  from  which  Colum- 
bus would  never  have  varied  but  in  compliance 
with  their  clamorous  wishes. 

For  several  days  they  continued  on  with  the 
same  favorable  breeze,  tranquil  sea,  and  mild,  de- 
lightful weather.  The  water  was  so  calm  that  the 
sailors  amused  themselves  with  swimming  about 
the  vessel.  Dolphins  began  to  abound,  and  flying- 
fish,  darting  into  the  air,  fell  upon  the  decks.  The 
continued  signs  of  land  diverted  the  attention  of 
the  crews,  and  insensibly  allured  them  onward. 

On  the  1st  of  October,  according  to  the  reckon- 
ing of  the  pilot  of  the  admiral's  ship,  they  had 
come  five  hundred  and  eighty  leagues  west  since 
leaving  the  Canary  Islands.  On  the  following  day 
fche  weeds  floated  from  east  to  west,  and  on  the 
third  day  no  birds  were  to  be  seen. 

The  crews  now  began  to  fear  that  they  had 
passed  between  islands,  from  one  to  the  other  of 


348 


FIFTH    READER. 


which,  the  birds  had  been  flying.  Columbus  had 
also  some  doubts  of  the  kind,  but  refused  to  alter 
his  westward  course.  The  people  again  uttered 
menaces  and  murmurs,  but  on  the  following  day 
they  were  visited  by  such  nights  of  birds  and  the 
various  indications  of  land  became  so  numerous, 
that  from  a  state  of  despondency  they  passed  to 
one  of  confident  expectation. 

Notes.  —  Christopher  Columbus  (1436-1506),  the  discoverer  of 
America,  was  a  native  of  Q-en'oa,  Italy.  He  early  developed  a 
taste  for  geography  and  astronomy,  and  afterward  became  a 
sailor.  His  idea  that  there  must  be  a  passage  to  India  by  fol- 
lowing a  "westerly  course  across  the  ocean  finally  found  credence 
-with  the  King  and  Queen  of  Spain,  and  they  assisted  him  to  make 
his  remarkable  voyage  in  1492,  which  resulted  in  the  discovery  of 
America,  and  made  his  name  famous.  The  ingratitude  of  kings  is 
shown  in  the  fact  that  Columbus  was  allowed  to  die  in  abject 
poverty. 

Mar  a  vSfdt^sfold  Spanish  coins  of  very  small  value  ;  10,000  mar- 
avedies  of  silver  would  be  equal  to  about  $35. 


78.—  THE     DISCOVERY     OF     AMERICA. 

PART      II. 


pre'-eon  fert/ed,  determined  up- 
on by  previous  agreement. 
tur'  bu  lent,  disorderly. 
pa9'i  fy,  calm;  quiet. 
de  s^rl^d',  seen. 
man'i  fes  ta'  tion§,  evidences. 
san'  guin^  (sang'gwin),  hopeful. 


affirm' a  tlv^,  a  word  express- 
ing assent. 

SUP  mount'  ed,  topped. 
dgfer  en.9^,  respect. 
a-e'  qul  es'  £en£^,  assent. 
be  nlg'ni  ty,  kindness. 
fip'ma  ment,  air;  sky. 


On  the  morning  of  the  7th  of  October,  at  sun- 
rise, several  of  the  admiral's  crew  thought  that  they 
beheld  land  in  the  west,  but  so  indistinctly  that  no 
one  ventured  to  proclaim  it.  The  Nina,  however, 


FIFTH    READER.  349 

being  a  good  sailer,  pressed  forward  to  ascertain  the 
fact.  In  a  little  while  a  flag  was  hoisted  at  her 
mast-head,  and  a  gun  discharged,  these  "being  the 
preconcerted  signals  for  land. 

New  joy  was  awakened  throughout  the  little 
squadron,  and  every  eye  was  turned  to  the  west. 
As  they  advanced,  however,  their  cloud-built  hopes 
faded  away,  and  before  evening  the  fancied  land 
had  again  melted  into  air.  The  crew  now  sank 
into  a  state  of  dejection  proportioned  to  their  recent 
excitement ;  but  new  circumstances  occurred  to 
arouse  them. 

Columbus  having  observed  great  flights  of  small 
field  birds  going  toward  the  south-west,  concluded 
they  must  be  secure  of  some  neighboring  land, 
where  they  would  find  food  and  a  resting  place. 
He  knew  the  importance  which  the  Portuguese 
voyagers  attached  to  the  flight  of  birds,  by  follow- 
ing which  they  had  discovered  most  of  their 
islands.  He  determined  therefore  on  the  evening 
of  the  7th  of  October,  to  alter  his  course  to  the 
west-south-west,  the  direction  in  which  the  birds 
generally  flew. 

For  three  days  they  stood  in  this  direction,  and 
the  farther  they  went  the  more  frequent  and  en- 
couraging were  the  signs  of  land.  Flights  of  small 
birds  of  various  colors,  some  of  them  such  as  sing 
in  the  fields,  came  flying  about  the  ships,  and  then 
continued  toward  the  south-west,  and  others  were 
heard  flying  by  in  the  night.  Tunnies  played  about 
in  the  smooth  sea,  and  a  heron,  a  pelican,  and 
a  duck  were  seen,  all  bound  in  the  same  direction. 

All  these,  however,  were  regarded  by  the  crew 
as  so  many  delusions  beguiling  them,  on  to  desti'uc- 


38O  FIFTH    READER. 

tion;  and  when,  on  the  evening  of  the  third  day, 
they  beheld  the  sun  go  down  upon  a  shoreless 
horizon,  they  broke  forth  into  turbulent  clamor. 
They  insisted  upon  returning  home,  and  abandon- 
ing the  voyage  as  hopeless. 

Columbus  endeavored  to  pacify  them  by  gentle 
words  and  promises  of  large  rewards;  but  finding 
that  they  only  increased  in  clamor,  he  assumed  a 
decided  tone.  He  told  them  it  was  useless  to  mur- 
mur; the  expedition  had  been  sent  by  the  sover- 
eigns to  seek  the  Indies,  and,  happen  what  might, 
he  was  determined  to  persevere,  until,  by  the 
blessing  of  God,  he  should  accomplish  the  enter- 
prise. 

Columbus  was  now  at  open  defiance  with  his 
crew,  and  his  situation  became  desperate.  Fortu- 
nately the  manifestations  of  the  vicinity  of  land 
were  such  on  the  following  day  as  no  longer  to 
admit  of  doubt.  Besides  a  quantity  of  fresh  weeds, 
such  as  grow  in  rivers,  they  saw  a  green  fish  of  a 
kind  which  keeps  about  rocks ;  tjien  a  branch  of 
thorn  with  berries  on  it,  and  recently  separated 
from  the  tree,  floated  by  them ;  then  they  ^picked 
up  a  reed,  a  small  board,  and,  above  all,  a  staff 
artificially  carved. 

All  gloom  and  mutiny  now  gave  way  to  san- 
guine expectation ;  and  throughout  the  day  each  one 
was  eagerly  on  the  watch,  in  hopes  of  being  the  one 
to  discover  the  long-sought-for  land.  The  breezes 
had  been  fresh  all  day,  with  more  sea  than  usual, 
and  they  had  made  great  progress.  At  sunset  they 
had  stood  again  to  the  west,  and  were  plowing 
the  waves  at  a  rapid  rate,  the  Pinta  keeping  the 
lead  from  her  superior  sailing. 


FIFTH     READER.  351 

The  greatest  animation  prevailed  throughout  the 
ships;  not  an  eye  was  closed  that  night.  As  the 
evening  darkened,  Columbus  took  his  station  on  the 
top  of  the  castle  or  cabin  of  his  vessel,  ranging  his 
eye  along  the  dusky  horizon,  and  maintaining  an 
intense  and  unremitting  watch. 

About  ten  o'clock  he  thought  he  beheld  a  light, 
glimmering  at  a  great  distance.  Fearing  his  eager 
hopes  might  deceive  him,  he  called  to  one  of  his 
men  and  inquired  whether  he  saw  such  a  light ; 
the  latter  replied  in  the  affirmative.  Doubtful 
whether  it  might  not  yet  be  some  delusion  of  the 
fancy,  Columbus  called  to  still  another,  and  made 
the  same  inquiry. 

By  the  time  the  latter  had  ascended  the  round- 
house the  light  had  disappeared.  They  saw  It  once 
or  twice  afterward  in  sudden  and  passing  gleams, 
as  if  it  were  a  torch  on  the  bark  of  a  fisherman, 
rising  and  sinking  with  the  waves,  or  in  the  hand 
of  some  person  on  shore,  borne  up  and  down  as  he 
passed  from  house  to  house.  So  transient  and  un- 
certain were  these  gleams  that  few  attached  any 
importance  to  them ;  Columbus,  however,  consid- 
ered them  as  certain  signs  of  land,  and,  moreover, 
that  the  land  was  inhabited. 

They  continued  their  course  until  two  in  the 
morning,  when  a  gun  from  the  Pinta  gave  the 
joyful  signal  of  land.  It  was  first  descried  by  a  mar- 
iner named  Rodrigo  de  Triana ;  but  the  reward  was 
afterward  adjudged  to  the  admiral,  for  having  pre- 
viously perceived  the  light.  The  land  was  now 
clearly  seen  about  two  leagues  distant,  whereupon 
they  took  in  sail  and  lay  to,  impatiently  waiting 
for  the  dawn. 


352  FIFTH     READER. 

It  was  on  Friday  morning,  the  12th  of  October, 
that  Columbus  first  beheld  the  New  World.  As  the 
day  dawned  he  saw  before  him  a  level  island  sev- 
eral leagues  in  extent,  and  covered  with  trees  like 
a  continuous  orchard.  Though  apparently  uncul- 
tivated, it  was  populous,  for  the  inhabitants  were 
seen  issuing  from  all  parts  of  the  woods  and  run- 
ning to  the  shore.  They  stood  gazing  at  the  ships, 
and  appeared  by  their  attitudes  and  gestures  to  be 
lost  in  astonishment. 

Columbus  made  signal  for  the  ships  to  cast 
anchor,  and  the  boats  to  be  manned  and  armed. 
He  entered  his  own  boat,  richly  attired  in  scarlet, 
and  holding  the  royal  standard,  having  on  either 
side  the  letters  F  and  Y,  the  initials  of  the  Cas- 
tilian  monarchs,  Ferdinand  and  Ysabel,  surmounted 
by  crowns. 

On  landing  he  threw  himself  upon  his  knees, 
kissed  the  earth,  and  returned  thanks  to  G-od  with 
tears  of  joy.  His  example  was  followed  by  the  rest, 
whose  hearts  indeed  overflowed  with  the  same  feel- 
ings of  gratitude. 

Columbus  then  rising,  drew  his  sword,  displayed 
the  royal  standard,  and  assembling  around  him  the 
two  captains,  with  the  notary  of  the  armament  and 
the  rest  who  had  landed,  he  took  solemn  posses- 
sion in  the  name  of  the  Castilian  sovereigns,  giving 
the  island  the  name  of  San  Salvador. 

The  feelings  of  the  crews  now  burst  forth  in  the 
most  extravagant  transports.  They  had  recently 
considered  themselves  devoted  men  hurrying  for- 
ward to  destruction ;  now  they  looked  upon  them- 
selves as  favorites  of  fortune,  and  gave  themselves 
up  to  the  most  unbounded  joy.  They  thronged 


FIFTH     READER.  3S3 

around  the  admiral  with,  overflowing  zeal;  some 
embraced  him-,  others  kissed  his  hands. 

The  natives  of  the  island,  when,  at  the  dawn  of 
day,  they  had  "beheld  the  ships  hovering  on  their 
coast,  had  supposed  them  monsters,  which  had 
issued  from  the  deep  during  the  night.  They  had 
crowded  to  the  "beach,  and  watched  their  move- 
ments with  awful  anxiety.  Their  veering  about, 
apparently  without  effort,  and  the  shifting  and 
furling  of  their  sails,  resembling  huge  wings,  filled 
them  with  astonishment.  When  they  beheld  their 
boats  approaching  and  a  number  of  strange  beings, 
clad  in  glittering  steel,  or  raiment  of  various 
colors,  landing  upon  the  beach,  they  fled  in  affright 
to  the  woods. 

Finding  however  that  there  was  no  attempt  to 
pursue  or  molest  them,  they  gradually  recovered 
from  their  terror,  and  approached  the  Spaniards 
with  great  awe,  frequently  prostrating  themselves 
on  the  earth,  and  making  signs  of  adoration. 

The  admiral  particularly  attracted  their  atten- 
tion from  his  commanding  height,  his  air  of  au- 
thority, his  dress  of  scarlet,  and  the  deference 
which  was  paid  him  by  his  companions,  all  of 
which  pointed  him  out  to  be  commander.  When 
they  had  still  further  recovered  from  their  fears, 
they  approached  the  Spaniards,  touched  their  beards, 
and  examined  their  hands  and  faces,  admiring  their 
whiteness. 

Columbus  was  pleased  with  their  gentleness  and 
confiding  simplicity,  and  suffered  their  scrutiny 
with  perfect  acquiescence,  winning  them  by  his 
benignity.  They  now  supposed  that  the  ships  had 
sailed  out  of  the  crystal  firmament  which  bounded 


384  FIFTH    READER. 

tlieir  horizon,  or  had  descended  from  above  on  their 
ample  wings,  and  that  these  marvelous  "beings  were 

inhabitants  of  the  skies. 

WASHINGTON  IRVING. 


Biography.— "Washington  Irving  was  born  in  tho  City  of  Xew 
York  in  1783,  and  died  in  1859. 

When  sixteen  years  old,  Irving  entered  a  law  office;  but  soon 
found  that  he  had  no  taste  for  the  work.  In  1801,  ho  visited 
Europe,  and  on  his  return  published  "A  History  of  New  York," 
the  style  of  which  is  both  humorous  and  entertaining.  Owing 
to  financial  reverses,  Irving  was  obliged  in  1815  to  resort  to 
literature  as  a  means  of  support,  and  the  beauty  of  his  style  soon 
captivated  the  reading  public  of  England  and  America.  In.  1831, 
he  was  honored  with  tho  degree  of  LL.D.  from  Oxford  University; 
and  in  1842,  was  appointed  United  States  Minister  to  Spain. 

His  best  known  works  are  "The  Alhambra,"  "Tales  of  a 
Traveler,"  "Bracebridge  Hall,"  "History  of  the  Life  and  Voyages 
of  Columbus,"  and  "Life  of  Washington."  An  edition  of  his 
works  in  fifteen  volumes  has  reached  a  sale  of  several  hundred 
thousand  copies. 


79.  —  THE    CAVALRY    CHARGE. 


mtis'  ket  6^r§',  soldiers  armed 


with  muskets. 
shat'  ter^d,  broken. 


dol^d,  spoken. 

plash' y,  watery. 

sea  b' bard,  case  of  a  sword. 


Hark !  the  rattling  roll  of  the  musketeers, 
And  the  ruffled  drums  and  the  rallying  cheers, 
And  the  rifles  burn  with  a  keen  desire 
Like  the  crackling  whips  of  a  hemlock  fire, 
And  the  singing  shot  and  the  shrieking  shell, 
And  the   splintered  fire  of  the  shattered  hell, 
And  the  great  white  breaths  of  the  cannon  smoke 
As  the  growling  guns  by  batteries  spoke; 
And  the  ragged  gaps  in  the  walls  of  blue 
Where  the  iron  surge  rolled  heavily  through, 


FIFTH    READER.  355 

That  the  colonel  builds  with  a  breath  again, 

As  he  cleaves  the  din  with  his  "Close  up,  menl"* 

And  the  groan  torn  out  from  the  blacken'd  lips, 

And  the  prayer  doled  slow  with  the  crimson  drips, 

And  the  beaming  look  in  the  dying  eye 

As  under  the  clouds  the  stars  go  by, 

"But  his  soul  marched  on,"  the  captain  said, 

"For  the  Boy  in  BlueN  can  never  be  dead!" 

And  the  troopers  sit  in  their  saddles  all 

Like  statues  carved  in  an  ancient  hall, 

And  they  watch   the    whirl    from    their  breathless 

ranks, 

And  their  spurs  are  close  to  the  horses'  flanks, 
And  the  fingers  work   of  the  saber  hand— 
O,  to  bid  them  live,  and  to  make  them  grand  1 
And  the  bugle  sounds  to  the   charge  at  last, 
And  away  they  plunge,  and  the  front  is  passed! 
And  the  jackets  blue  grow  red  as  they  ride, 
And  the  scabbards  too  that  clank  by  their  side, 
And  the  dead  soldiers  deaden  the  strokes  iron-shod 
As  they  gallop  right  on  o'er  the  plashy,  red  sod— 
Right  into  the  cloud  all  spectral  and  dim, 
Right  up  to  the  guns  black-throated  and  grim, 
Right  down  on  the  hedges  bordered  with  steel, 
Right    through    the     dense    columns,    then    "right 

about  wheel!"1* 

Hurra !     A  new  swath  through  the  harvest  again ! 
Hurra  for  the  flag!     To  the  battle,  Amen! 

BENJAMIN  F.  TAYLOR. 

Biography.  —  For  a  biographical  sketch  of  Benjamin  Eranklin 
Taylor,  see  page  204. 

Notes.— Close  up,  means  join  the  broken  parts  of  the  ranks  by  a 
movement,  usually  from  the  left  toward  the  right. 


366  FIFTH    READER. 


Boy  in  Blue  is  a  name  given  to  a  United  States  soldier  on  ac- 
count of  the  color  of  his  uniform. 

Right  about  wheel  is  a  command  for  the  soldiers  to  turn  around 
and  march  in  an  opposite  direction. 

Elocution.  —  State  whether  or  not  the  first  few  lines  should  "be 
read  in  a  suppressed  tone  of  voice.  How  should  the  interjection 
"Hark!"  be  uttered?  Do  not  emphasize  and. 

Language.— 'The  repetition  of  the  word  "and"  so  often  through- 
out the  poem,  indicates  the  excitement  with  which  the  thoughts 
are  uttered. 

What  figure  of  rhetoric  is  used  in  the  last  line  of  page  354? 
In  lines  9  and  10,  page  355? 


8O.  —  LOST    ON    THE     FLOES. 

PA  RT      I. 


tin'  en  -e&m'  ber^d,  free;  un- 
burdened. 

pern' mi  -ean,  thin  pieces  of  meat 
dried  in  the  sun. 

su'  per'flu  fcj&s,  unnecessary. 

pre'  mo  nl'tion,  previous  notice. 
,  a  hole  in  the  ground. 

in'  dis  pSn'sa  bl^,  necessary. 


at  trfb'ut^,  ascribe  ;   consider  as 


'  ti-e,  a  substance  which,  when 
appUed,  icttl  burn  the  flesh. 
fra-et' iir^,  breaking  of  a  bone. 
ef  fa9^d',  removed;  destroyed. 
em  bal^',  pack. 
•eon' fig  u  ra'  tion,  form. 


We  were  at  work  cheerfully,  sewing  away  at  tlie 
skins  of  some  moccasins  "by  the  blaze  of  our  lamps, 
when,  toward  midnight,  we  heard  the  noise  of  steps 
above,  and  the  next  minute  Sontag,  Ohlsen,  and 
Petersen  came  down  into  the  cabin.  Their  manner 
startled  me  even  more  than  their  unexpected  ap- 
pearance on  board.  They  were  swollen  and  haggard, 
and  hardly  able  to  speak. 

Their  story  was  a  fearful  one.  They  had  left 
their  companions  in  the  ice,  risking  their  own  lives 
to  bring  us  the  news:  Brooks,  Baker,  Wilson,  and 
Pierre  were  all  lying  frozen  and  disabled.  Where? 


FIFTH    READER.  357 

They  could  not  tell:  somewhere  in  among  the 
hummocks  to  the  north  and  east;  it  was  drifting 
heavily  round  them  when  they  parted. 

Irish  Tom  had  stayed  by  to  feed  and  care  for 
the  others;  but  the  chances  were  sorely  against 
them.  It  was  in  vain  to  question  them  further. 
They  had  evidently  traveled  a  great  distance,  for 
they  were  sinking  with  fatigue  and  hunger,  and 
could  hardly  be  rallied  enough  to  tell  us  the  direc- 
tion in  which  they  had  come. 

My  first  impulse  was  to  move  011  the  instant 
with  an  unencumbered  party:  a  rescue  to  be  effect- 
ive, or  even  hopeful,  could  not  be  too  prompt. 
What  pressed  on  my  mind  most  was,  where  the 
sufferers  were  to  be  looked  for  among  the  drifts. 
Ohlsen  seemed  to  have  his  faculties  rather  more 
at  command  than  his  associates,  and  I  thought  that 
he  might  assist  us  as  a  guide  *  but  he  was  sinking 
with  exhaustion,  and  if  he  went  with  us  we  must 
carry  him. 

There  was  not  a  moment  to  lose.  While  some 
were  still  busy  with  the  new-comers  and  getting 
ready  a  hasty  meal,  others  were  rigging  out  the 
Little  Willie N  with  a  buffalo  cover,  a  small  tent, 
and  a  package  of  pemmican;  and,  as  soon  as  we 
could  hurry  through  our  arrangements,  Ohlsen  was 
strapped  on  in  a  fur  bag,  his  legs  wrapped  in  dog- 
skins and  eider-down,  and  we  were  off  upon  the 
ice.  Our  party  consisted  of  nine  men  and  myself. 
We  carried  only  the  clothes  on  our  backs. 

The  thermometer  stood  at  —46  degrees,*  seventy- 
eight  degrees  below  the  freezing-point.  A  well- 
known  peculiar  tower  of  ice,  called  by  the  men 
the  "Pinnacly  Berg,"  served  as  our  first  landmark; 


358  FIFTH    READER. 

other  icebergs  of  colossal  size,  which,  stretched  in 
long,  beaded  lines  across  the  bay,  helped  to  guide 
us  afterward ;  and  it  was  not  until  we  had  traveled 
for  sixteen  hours  that  we  began  to  lose  our  way. 

We  knew  that  our  lost  companions  must  be 
somewhere  in  the  area  before  us,  within  a  radius 
of  forty  miles.  Mr.  Ohlsen,  who  had  been  for  fifty 
hours  without  rest,  fell  asleep  as  soon  as  we  began 
to  move,  and  awoke  now  with  unequivocal  signs 
of  mental  disturbance.  It  became  evident  that  he 
had  lost  the  bearing  of  the  icebergs,  which  in  form 
and  color  endlessly  repeated  themselves ;  and  the 
uniformity  of  the  vast  field  of  snow  utterly  for- 
bade the  hope  of  local  landmarks. 

Pushing  ahead  of  the  party,  and  clambering  over 
some  rugged  ice  piles,  I  came  to  a  long,  level  floe, 
which  I  thought  might  probably  have  attracted  the 
eyes  of  weary  men  iii  circumstances  like  our  own. 
It  was  a  light  conjecture ;  but  it  was  enough  to 
turn  the  scale,  for  there  was  no  other  to  balance 
it.  I  gave  orders  to  abandon  the  sledge,  and  dis- 
perse in  search  of  foot-marks.  "We  raised  our  tent, 
placed  our  pemmican  in  cache,N  except  a  small 
allowance  for  each  man  to  carry  on  his  person ;  and 
poor  Ohlsen,  now  just  able  to  keep  his  legs,  was 
liberated  from  his  bag. 

The  thermometer  had  fallen  by  this  time  to 
—  49  degrees,  and  the  wind  was  -setting  in  sharply 
from  the  north-west.  It  was  out  of  the  question 
to  halt:  it  required  brisk  exercise  to  keep  us  from 
freezing.  I  could  not  even  melt  ice  for  water;  and, 
at  these  temperatures,  any  resort  to  snow  for  the 
purpose  of  allaying  thirst  was  followed  by  bloody 
lips  and  tongue;  it  burned  like  caustic. 


FIFTH    READER.  359 

It  was  indispensable,  then,  that  we  should  move 
on,  looking  out  for  traces  as  we  went.  Yet  when 
the  men  were  ordered  to  spread  themselves,  so  as 
to  multiply  the  chances,  though  they  all  obeyed 
heartily,  some  painful  impress  of  solitary  danger, 
or  perhaps  it  may  have  been  the  varying  configu- 
ration of  the  ice-field,  kept  them  closing  up  con- 
tinually into  a  single  group. 

The  strange  manner  in  which  some  of  us  were 
affected  I  now  attribute  as  much  to  shattered 
nerves  as  to  the  direct  influence  of  the  cold.  Men 
like  McGary  and  Bonsall,  who  had  stood  out  our 
severest  marches,  were  seized  with  trembling-fits 
and  short  breath,  and,  in  spite  of  all  my  efforts  to 
keep  up  an  example  of  sound  bearing,  I  fainted 
twice  on  the  snow. 

We  had  been  nearly  eighteen  hours  out  without 
water  or  food,  when  a  new  hope  cheered  us.  I  think 
it  was  Hans,  our  Esquimau N  hunter,  who  thought 
he  saw  a  broad  sledge  track.  The  drift  had  nearly 
effaced  it,  and  we  were  some  of  us  doubtful  at  first 
whether  it  was  not  one  of  those  accidental  rifts 
which  the  gales  make  in  the  surface  snow. 

But  as  we  traced  it  on  to  the  deep  snow  among 
the  hummocks,  we  were  led  to  footsteps ;  and  fol- 
lowing these  with  religious  care,  we  at  last  came 
in  sight  of  a  small  American  flag  fluttering  from  a 
hummock,  and  lower  down  a  little  Masonic  banner 
hanging  from  a  tent  pole  hardly  above  the  drift. 
It  was  the  camp  of  our  disabled  comrades ;  we 
reached  it  after  an  unbroken  march  of  twenty-one 
hours. 

The  little  tent  was  nearly  covered.  I  was  not 
among  the  first  to  come  up;  but,  when  I  reached 


36O  FIFTH    READER. 

the  tent  curtain,  the  men  were  standing  in  silent 
file  on  each  side  of  it.  With  more  kindness  and 
delicacy  of  feeling  than  is  generally  supposed  to 
"belong  to  sailors,  but  which  is  almost  character- 
istic, they  intimated  their  wish  that  I  should  go 
in  alone.  As  I  crawled  in,  and,  coming  upon  the 
darkness,  heard  before  me  the  burst  of  welcome 
gladness  that  came  from  the  four  poor  fellows 
stretched  upon  their  backs,  and  then  for  the  first 
time  the  cheer  outside,  my  weakness  and  my  grati- 
tude together  almost  overcame  me.  "They  had 
expected  me:  they  were  sure  I  would  come!" 

We  were  now  fifteen  souls;  the  thermometer 
75  degrees  below  the  freezing-point;  and  our  sole 
accommodation  a  tent  barely  able  to  contain  eight 
persons:  more  than  half  our  party  were  obliged  to 
keep  from  freezing  by  walking  outside  while  the 
others  slept.  We  could  not  halt  long.  Each  of  us 
took  a  turn  of  two  hours'  sleep;  and  then  we  pre- 
pared for  our  homeward  march. 

We  took  with  us  nothing  but  the  tent,  furs  to 
protect  the  rescued  party,  and  food  for  a  journey 
of  fifty  hours.  Every  thing  else  was  abandoned. 
Two  large  buffalo  bags,  each  made  of  four  skins 
were  doubled  up,  so  as  to  form  a  sort  of  sack,  lined 
on  each  side  with  fur,  closed  at  the  bottom,  but 
open  at  the  top.  This  was  laid  on  the  sledge;  the 
tent,  smoothly  folded,  serving  as  a  floor. 

The  sick,  with  their  limbs  sewed  up  carefully  in 
reindeer-skins,  were  placed  upon  the  bed  of  buffalo 
robes,  in  a  half-reclining  posture;  other  skins  and 
blanket  bags  were  thrown  above  them ;  and  the 
whole  litter  was  lashed  together  so  as  to  allow  but 
a  single  openirg  opposite  the  mouth  for  breathing. 


FIFTH    READER.  361 

This  necessary  work  cost  us  a  great  deal  of  time 
and  effort;  but  it  was  essential  to  the  lives  of  the 
sufferers.  It  took  us  no  less  than  four  hours  to 
strip  and  refresh  them,  and  then  to  embale  them 
in  the  manner  I  have  described.  Few  of  us  escaped 
without  frost-bitten  lingers;  the  thermometer  was 
55  degrees  below  zero,  and  a  slight  wind  added  to 
the  severity  of  the  cold. 

It  was  completed  at  last,  however;  all  hands 
stood  round;  and,  after  repeating  a  short  prayer,  we 
set  out  on  our  retreat.  It  was  fortunate  indeed 
that  we  were  not  inexperienced  in  sledging  over 
the  ice.  A  great  part  of  our  track  lay  among  a  suc- 
cession of  hummocks;  some  of  them  extending  in 
long  lines,  fifteen  and  twenty  feet  high,  and  so  uni- 
formly steep  that  we  had  to  turn  them  by  a  consid- 
erable deviation  from  our  direct  course;  others  that 
we  forced  our  way  through,  far  above  our  heads  in 
height,  lying  in  parallel  ridges,  with  the  space  be- 
tween too  narrow  for  the  sledge  to  be  lowered  into 
it  safely,  and  yet  not  wide  enough  for  the  runners 
to  cross  without  the  aid  of  ropes  to  stay  them. 

These  spaces  too  were  generally  choked  with 
light  snow,  hiding  the  openings  between  the  ice 
fragments.  They  were  fearful  traps  to  disengage  a 
limb  from,  for  every  man  knew  that  a  fracture  or 
a  sprain  even  would  cost  him  his  life.  Besides  all 
this,  the  sledgo  was  top-heavy  with  its  load:  the 
maimed  men  could  not  bear  to  be  lashed  down 
tight  enough  to  secure  them  against  falling  off. 
Notwithstanding  our  caution  in  rejecting  every  su- 
perfluous burden,  the  weight,  including  bags  and 
tent,  was  eleven  hundred  pounds. 

And  yet  our   march  for  the  first  six  hours  was 


362 


FIFTH    READER. 


very  cheering.  We  made,  by  vigorous  pulls  and 
lifts,  nearly  a  mile  an  hour,  and  reached  the  new 
floes  before  we  were  absolutely  weary.  Our  sledge 
sustained  the  trial  admirably.  Ohlsen,  restored  by 
hope,  walked  steadily  at  the  leading  belt  of  the 
sledge  lines;  and  I  began  to  *feel  certain  of  reaching 
our  half-way  station  of  the  day  before,  where  we 
had  left  our  tent.  But  we  were  still  nine  miles  from 
it,  when,  almost  without  premonition,  we  all  became 
aware  of  an  alarming  failure  of  our  energies. 

Notes.  —  Little  Willie  was  the  name  given  "by  Dr.  Kane's  party 
to  a  sledge. 

The  expression  —46  degrees,  means-  forty-six  degrees  below  zero. 
Freezing-point  is  indicated  as  82  degrees  above  zero  ;  32  degrees 
added  to  46  degrees  equals  78  degrees  below  freezing-point. 

Cache  (kash),  a  place  -where  provisions  are  placed  for  preser- 
vation or  concealment,  usually  a  hole  in  the  ground. 

Esquimau  (es'ke  m6)  is  the  singular  form  of  the  noun;  Esqui- 
maux (es'ke  mo§),  the  plural. 

Language.  — Some  adverbs  are  formed  from  adjectives  by  the 
addition  of  the  ending  ly ;  as,  firmly,  steadily,  hopefully.  The 
ending  ly  indicates  manner,  and  the  adverbs  so  formed  are  called 
adverbs  of  manner. 


8f.— LOST    ON    THE     FLOES. 

PART      I  I. 


stra  bl§'  mus,  an  affection  of 
one  or  both  eyes  so  that  they  can 
not  be  directed  toward  the  same 


i  mand'ed,  found  fault 
with. 

e  mer'gen  9y,  a  crisis;  a  sud- 
den occasion. 

ar  tie'  u  lat^,  speak. 

v61  un  te^r^d',  offered. 

em  beTlish  merit,  ornament. 


I  was  of  course  familiar  with  the  benumbed  and 
almost  lethargic  sensation  of  extreme  cold;  but  I 
had  treated  the  sleepy  comfort  of  freezing  as  some- 


am'pu  ta'tion,  cutting  off. 
de  IIP'  i  §us,  deprived  of  reason. 
,  an  extract  of  opium. 


FIFTH    READER.  363 

thing  like  the  embellishment  of  romance.  I  had 
evidence  now  to  the  contrary. 

Bonsall  and  Morton,  two  of  our  stoutest  men, 
came  to  me,  "begging  permission  to  sleep :  "  They 
were  not  cold;  the  wind  did  not  penetrate  them 
now :  a  little  sleep  was  all  they  wanted ! "  Pres- 
ently Hans  was  found  nearly  stiff  in  a  hollow ;  and 
Thomas,  "bolt  upright,  had  his  eyes  closed,  and  could 
hardly  articulate. 

At  last  John  Blake  threw  himself  on  the  snow, 
and  refused  to  rise.  They  did  not  complain  of  feel- 
ing cold ;  but  it  was  in  vain  that  I  wrestled,  "boxed, 
ran,  argued,  jeered,  or  reprimanded ;  an  immediate 
halt  could  not  "be  avoided. 

We  pitched  our  tentN  with  much  difficulty.  Our 
1  lands  were  too  powerless  to  strike  a  fire ;  we  were 
obliged  to  do  without  water  or  food.  Even  the 
spirits  (whisky)  had  frozen  at  the  men's  feet,  under 
all  the  coverings.  We  put  Bonsall,  Ohlsen,  Thomas, 
and  Hans,  with  the  other  sick  men,  well  inside 
the  tent,  and  crowded  in  as  many  others  as  we 
could. 

Then  leaving  the  party  with  Mr.  McGary,  with 
orders  to  come  on  after  four  hours'  rest,  I  pushed 
.ahead  with  William  Godfrey,  who  volunteered  to  be 
my  companion.  My  aim  was  to  reach  the  half-way 
tent,  and  thaw  some  ice  and  pemmican  before  the 
others  arrived.  The  fioe  was  of  level  ice,  and  the 
walking  excellent.  I  can  not  tell  how  long  it  took 
us  to  make  the  nine  miles ;  for  we  were  in  a  strange 
sort  of  stupor,  and  had  little  appreciation  of  time. 
It  was  probably  about  four  hours. 

We  kept  ourselves  awake  by  imposing  on  each 
other  a  continued  articulation  of  words.  I  recall 


364  FIFTH    READER. 

these  hours  as  among  the  most  wretched  I  have 
ever  gone  through ;  we  were  neither  of  us  in  our 
right  senses,  and  retained  a  very  confused  recollec- 
tion of  what  preceded  our  arrival  at  the  tent.  We 
both  of  us  however  remember  a  bear,  that  walked 
leisurely  before  us  and  tore  up,  as  he  went,  a 
jumper  that  Mr.  McGary  had  carelessly  thrown  off 
the  day  before.  He  tore  it  into  shreds  and  rolled 
it  into  a  ball,  but  never  offered  to  interfere  witli 
our  progress.  T  remember  this,  and  with  it  a  con- 
fused sentiment  that  our  tent  and  buffalo  robes 
might  probably  share  the  same  fate. 

Godfrey  had  a  better  eye  than  myself;  and,  look- 
ing some  miles  ahead,  he  could  see  that  our  tent 
was  undergoing  the  same  unceremonious  treatment. 
I  thought  I  saw  it  too,  but  we  were  so  overcome 
with  cold  that  we  strode  on  steadily,  and,  for  aught 
I  know,  without  quickening  our  pace. 

Probably  our  approach  saved  the  contents  of  the 
tent;  for  when  we  reached  it  the  tent  was  unin- 
jured, though  the  bear  had  overturned  it,  tossing 
the  buffalo  robes  and  pemmican  into  the  snow ;  we 
missed  only  a  couple  of  blanket  bags.  What  we 
recollect,  however,  and  perhaps  all  we  recollect,  is, 
that  we  had  great  difficulty  in  raising  it. 

We  crawled  into  our  reindeer  sleeping-bags,  with- 
out speaking,  and  for  the  next  three  hours  slept  on 
in  a  dreamy  but  intense  slumber.  When  I  awoke, 
my  long  beard  was  a  mass  of  ice,  frozen  fast  to  the 
buffalo-skin;  Godfrey  had  to  cut  me  out  with  his 
jackknife.  Four  days  after  our  escape,  I  found  my 
woolen  comfortable  with  a  goodly  share  of  my 
beard  still  adhering  to  it. 

Wo  were  able  to  melt  water   and   get  some  soup 


FIFTH    READER.  363 

cooked  before  the  rest  of  our  party  arrived;  it  took 
them  but  five  hours  to  walk  the  nine  miles.  They 
were  doing  well,  and,  considering  the  circumstances, 
were  in  wonderful  spirits.  Most  fortunately  the 
day  was  windless,  with  a  clear  sun.  All  enjoyed 
the  refreshment  we  had  got  ready ;  the  crippled 
were  repacked  in  their  robes ;  and  we  sped  briskly 
toward  the  hummock-ridges  which  lay  between  us 
and  the  "Pinnacly  Berg." 

It  required  desperate  efforts  to  work  our  way 
over  the  surface  floes,— literally  desperate,  for  our 
strength  failed  us  anew,  and  we  began  to  lose  our 
self-control.  We  could  not  abstain  any  longer  from 
eating  snow;  our  mouths  swelled,  and  some  of  us 
became  speechless.  Happily  the  day  was  warmed  by 
a  clear  sunshine,  and  the  thermometer  rose  to  — -i 
degrees  in  the  shade ;  otherwise  we  must  have  frozen. 

Our  halts  multiplied,  and  we  fell  half-sleeping 
011  the  snow.  I  could  not  prevent  it.  Strange  to 
say,  it  refreshed  us.  I  ventured  iipon  the  experi- 
ment myself,  making  Riley  wake  me  at  the  end  of 
three  minutes;  and  I  felt  so  much  benefited  by  it 
that  I  timed  the  men  in  the  same  way.  They  sat 
on  the  runners  of  the  sledge,  fell  asleep  instantly, 
and  were  forced  to  wakefulness  when  their  three 
minutes  were  out. 

By  eight  in  the  evening  we  emerged  from  the 
floes.  The  sight  of  the  "Pinnacly  Berg"  revived 
us.  Brandy,  an  invaluable  resource  in  emergency, 
had  already  been  served  out  in  table-spoonful  doses. 
We  now  took  a  longer  rest,  and  a  last  but  stouter 
dram,  and  reached  the  brig  at  1  P.  M.,  we  believe 
without  a  halt.' 

I  say  we  believe ;   and  here  perhaps  is  the  most 


366  FIFTH    READER. 

decided  proof  of  our  sufferings:  we  were  quite  de- 
lirious, and  had  ceased  to  entertain  a  sane  appre- 
hension of  the  circumstances  about  us.  We  moved 
on  like  men  in  a  dream.  Our  foot-marks,  seen  after- 
ward, showed  that  we  had  steered  a  "bee-line  for  the 
brig.  It  must  have  been  by  a  sort  of  instinct,  for 
it  left  no  impression  on  tho  memory. 

Bonsall  was  sent  staggering  ahead,  and  reached 
the  brig,  God  knows  how,  for  he  had  fallen  re- 
peatedly at  the  track  lines;  but  he  delivered  with 
perfect  accuracy  the  messages  I  had  sent  by  him  to 
Dr.  Hayes.  I  thought  myself  the  soundest  of  all, 
and  I  can  now  recall  the  muttering  delirium  of  my 
comrades  when  we  got  back  into  the  cabin  of  our 
brig.  Yet  I  have  been  told  since  of  some  speeches 
and  some  orders  too  of  mine,  which  I  should  have 
remembered  for  their  absurdity  if  my  mind  had 
retained  its  balance. 

Petersen  and  Whipple  came  out  to  meet  us  about 
two  miles  from  the  brig.  They  brought  my  clog 
team,  with  the  restoratives  I  had  sent  for  by.  Bon- 
sall. I  do  not  remember  their  coming.  Dr.  Hayes 
entered  with  judicious  energy  upon  the  treatment 
our  condition  called  for,  giving  morphine  freely, 
after  the  usual  frictions. 

He  reported  none  of  our  brain  symptoms  as  seri- 
ous, referring  them  properly  to  the  class  of  those 
indications  of  exhausted  power  which  yield  to  gen- 
erous diet  and  rest.  Mr.  Ohlsen  suffered  some  time 
from  strabismus  and  blindness;  two  others  under- 
went amputation  of  parts  of  the  foot,  without  un- 
pleasant consequences ;  and  two  died  in  spite  of  all 
our  efforts. 

This  rescue  party  had  been   out  for  seventy-two 


FIFTH    READER.  367 

hours.  We  had  halted  in  all  eight  hours,  half  of 
our  number  sleeping  at  a  time.  We  traveled  be- 
tween eighty  and  ninety  miles,  most  of  the  way 
dragging  a  heavy  sledge.  The  mean  temperature 
of  the  whole  time,  including  the  warmest  hours  of 
three  days,  was  at  —41  degrees.  We  had  no  water 
except  at  our  two  halts,  and  were  at  no  time  able 
to  intermit  vigorous  exercise  without  freezing. 

ELISHA  K.  KANE. 

Biography.— Elisha  Kent  Kane  (1820-1857),  the  celebrated  Arctic 
explorer,  entered  the  University  of  Virginia  in  1836,  afterward 
studied  medicine,  and  entered  the  navy  as  a  surgeon.  After 
visiting  many  parts  of  the  world,  he  joined  an  expedition  to  the 
Arctic  regions  in  1850.  In  1853,  he  commanded  a  second  expedi- 
tion which  made  important  discoveries.  His  work,  "Second 
Grinnell  Expedition  in  Search  of  Sir  John  Franklin,"  is  a  thrill- 
ing narrative. 

Notes.  —  Pitched  our  tent  means  fixed  our  tent  firmly  in  posi- 
tion to  shelter  us. 


82.  —  THE     BIVOUAC     OF     THE     DEAD. 


mtif' fl^d,  wrapped  with  some- 
thing to  dull  the  sound. 

tat  too',  a  beat  of  drum  at  night 
as  a  signal  for  retiring. 

sSr'ri^d,  crowded. 

r  e  m  6  rs^'  1  es  $ ,  unyntying;  cruel. 


blv'oua-e  (biv'wak),  encampment 

without  tents. 
em  baXm^d',  loved;  preserved 


martial  (sh&l),  warlike. 
•e6n'se  -era!  ed,  sacred. 


The  muffled  drum's  sad  roll  has  beat 

The  soldier's  last  tattoo ; 
No  more  on  life's  parade  shall  meet 

The  brave  and  daring  few. 
On  Fame's  eternal  camping-ground 

Their  silent  tents  are  spread, 
And  Glory  guards  -with  solemn  round 

The  bivouac  of  the  dead. 


368  FIFTH    READER. 

No  answer  of  the  foe's  advance 

Now  swells  upon  the  wind, 
No  troubled  thought  at  midnight  haunts 

Of  loved  ones  left  behind : 
No  vision  of  the  morrow's  strife 

The  warrior's  dream  alarms : 
No  "braying  horn  or  screaming  life 

At  dawn  shall  call  to  arms. 

Their  shivered  swords  are  red  with  rust; 

Their  plumed  heads  are  bowed ; 
Their  haughty  banner,  trailed  in  dust, 

Is  now  their  martial  shroud ; 
And  plenteous  funeral  tears  have  washed 

The  red  stains  from  each  brow, 
And  their  proud  forms,  in  battle  gashed, 

Are  free  from  anguish  now. 

The  neighing  steed,  the  flashing  blade, 

The  trumpet's  stirring  blast, 
The  charge,  the  dreadful  cannonade 

The  din  and  shout,  are  past; 
No  war's  wild  note,  nor  glory's  peal, 

Shall  thrill  with  fierce  delight 
Those  breasts  that  never  more  shall  feel 

The  rapture  of  the  fight. 

Like  the  dread  northern  hurricane 

That  sweeps  the  broad  plateau, 
Flushed  with  the  triumph  yet  to  gain, 

Came  down  the  serried  foe. 
Our  heroes  felt  the  shock,  and  leapt 

To  meet  them  on  the  plain ; 
And  long  the  pitying  sky  hath  wept 

Above  our  gallant  slain. 


FIFTH    READER.  369 

Sons  of  our  consecrated  ground, 

Ye  must  not  slumber  there, 
Where  stranger  steps  and  tongues  resound 

Along  the  sleepless  air. 
Your  own  proud  land's  heroic  soil 

Shall  be  your  fitter  grave ; 
She  claims  from  war  his  richest  spoil— 

The  ashes  of  her  brave. 

So  'neath  their  parent  turf  they  rest, 

Far  from  the  gory  field ; 
Borne  to  a  Spartan N  mother's  breast, 

On  many  a  bloody  shield. 
The  sunshine  of  their  native  sky 

Smiles  sadly  on  them  here, 
And  kindred  hearts  and  eyes  watch  by 

The  heroes'  sepulcher. 

Rest  on,  embalmed  and  sainted  dead! 

Dear  as  the  blood  you  gave ; 
No  impious  footsteps  here  shall  tread 

The  herbage  of  your  grave. 
Nor  shall  your  glory  be  forgot 

"While  Fame  her  record  keeps, 
Or  Honor  points  the  hallowed  spot 

Where  Valor  proudly  sleeps. 

Yon  marble  minstrel's  voiceless  tone 

In  deathless  songs  shall  tell, 
When  many  a  vanquished  age  hath  flown, 

The  story  how  ye  fell. 
Nor  wreck,  nor  change,  nor  winter's  blight, 

Nor  time's  remorseless  doom, 
Shall  dim  one  ray  of  holy  light 

That  gilds  your  glorious  tomb. 


37O  FIFTH    READER. 


Biography.—  Theodore  O'Hara  (1820-1867)  was  a  native  of  Ken> 
tucky,  where  his  remains  now  lie  buried.  This  beautiful  poem 
is  the  only  one  of  his  productions  that  is  generally  known,  but 
it  is  sufficient  to  render  his  name  memorable. 

Stanzas  of  the  poem  have  been  inscribed  upon  various  military 
monuments  — at  Boston,  Chancellorsville,  and  even  on  one  of  the 
famous  battle  grounds  of  the  Crimea.  N 

Notes.  —  Spartan  mother.  The  reference  is  to  the  courageous 
saying  of  the  Spartan  mother  to  her  son  going  forth  to  battle  — 
"Return  with  your  shield  or  on  it,"  meaning  "Victory  or  death." 

The  Crime' a,  a  peninsula  in  the  South  of  Russia,  was  the 
scene  of  the  great  strife  in  1854,  between  Russia  and  the  allied 
forces  of  Prance  and  England,  for  the  control  of  the  Black  Sea. 


83.  —  BENEATH     THE     FALLS    OF     NIAGARA. 


6b'  vi  fcjus  ly,  dearly  ;  easily  seen 

to  be. 
sub  mer'sion,   plunge    under 

water. 
tgnd'en  $y,  disposition. 

,  bubbling;  hissing. 

hdrt'  ed  (egz  hort'),  urged. 


s-ean'riing,  examining  ;  looking 


over. 


im'pe  tus,  force. 
shal^,  fine-grained  rock. 

a  bl^,  praiseworthy. 

nant,  sounding. 
pro  tu'  ber  an9^,  projection. 


On  the  first  evening  of  my  visit,  I  met,  at  the 
head  of  Biddle's  Stair,  the  guide  to  the  Cave  of  the 
Winds.  He  was  in  the  prime  of  manhood— large, 
well-built,  firm,  and  pleasant  in  mouth  and  eye. 
My  interest  in  the  scene  stirrejl  up  his,  and  made 
him  communicative.  Turning  to  a  photograph,  he 
described,  by  reference  to  it,  a  feat  which  he  had 
accomplished  some  time  previously,  and  which  had 
brought  him  almost  under  the  green  water  of  the 
Horseshoe  Fall. 

"Can  you  take  me  there  to-morrow?"  I  asked. 

He  eyed  me  inquiringly,  weighing,  perhaps,  the 
chances  of  a  man  of  light  build,  and  with  gray  in 
his  whiskers,  in  such  an  undertaking. 


FIFTH     READER.  371 

"I  wish.,"  I  added,  "to  see  as  much,  of  the  Fall 
as  can  be  seen,  and  where  you  lead  I  will  endeavor 
to  follow." 

His  scrutiny  relaxed  into  a  smile,  and  he  said, 
"  Very  well ;  I  shall  be  ready  for  you  to-morrow." 

On  the  morrow,  accordingly,  I  came.  In  the  hut 
at  the  head  of  Biddle's  Stair,  I  dressed  according  to 
instructions,— drawing  on  two  pairs  of  woolen  pan- 
taloons, three  woolen  jackets,  two  pairs  of  socks, 
and  a  pair  of  felt  shoes.  Even  if  wet,  my  guide 
assured  me  that  the  clothes  would  keep  me  from 
being  chilled ;  and  ho  was  right.  A  suit  and  hood 
of  yellow  oil-cloth  covered  all.  Most  laudable  pre- 
cautions were  taken  by  the  young  assistant  who 
helped  to  dress  me  to  keep  the  Abater  out;  but  his 
devices  broke  down  immediately  when  severely 
tested. 

We  descended  the  stair;  the  handle  of  a  pitch- 
fork doing,  in  my  case,  the  duty  of  an  alpenstock.11 
At  the  bottom,  the  guide  inquired  whether  we 
should  go  first  to  the  Cave  of  the  Winds,  or  to  the 
Horseshoe,  remarking  that  the  latter  would  try  us 
most.  I  decided  on  getting  the  roughest  done  first, 
and  he  turned  to  the  left  over  the  stones.  They 
were  sharp  and  trying. 

The  base  of  the  first  portion  of  the  cataract  is 
covered  with  huge  bowlders,  obviously  the  ruins 
of  the  limestone  ledge  above.  The  water  does  not 
distribute  itself  uniformly  among  them,  but  seeks 
out  channels  through  which  it  pours  with  the  force 
of  a  torrent.  We  passed  some  of  these  with  wet 
feet,  but  without  difficulty.  At  length  we  came  to 
the  side  of  a  more  formidable  current.  My  guide 
walked  along  its  edge  until  he  reached  its  least 


372  FIFTH    READER. 

turbulent  portion.  Halting,  lie  said,  "This  is  our 
greatest  difficulty;  if  we  can  cross  here,  we  shall 
get  far  toward  the  Horseshoe." 

He  waded  in.  It  evidently  required  all  his 
strength  to  steady  himself.  The  water  rose  above 
his  loins,  and  it  foamed  still  higher.  He  had  to 
search  for  footing,  amid  unseen  bowlders,  against 
which  the  torrent  rose  violently.  He  struggled 
and  swayed,  but  he  struggled  successfully,  and 
finally  reached  the  shallower  water  at  the  other 
side.  Stretching  out  his  arm,  he  said  to  me,  "Now 
come  on ! " 

I  looked  down  the  torrent  as  it  rushed  to  the 
river  below,  and  was  seething  with  the  tumult  of 
the  cataract.  Even  where  it  was  not  more  than 
knee-deep,  its  power  was  manifest.  As  it  rose  around 
me,  I  sought  to  split  the  torrent  by  presenting  a 
side  to  it;  but  the  insecurity  of  the  footing  enabled 
it  to  grasp  my  loins,  twist  me  fairly  round,  and 
bring  its  impetus  to  bear  upon  my  back.  Further 
struggle  was  impossible;  and  feeling  my  balance 
hopelessly  gone,  I  turned,  flung  myself  toward  the 
bank  just  quitted,  and  was  instantly,  as  expected, 
swept  into  shallower  water. 

The  oil-cloth  covering  was  a  great  incumbrance; 
it  had  been  made  for  a  much  stouter  man,  and, 
standing  upright  after  my  submersion,  my  legs 
occupied  the  center  of  two  bags  of  water.  My  guide 
exhorted  -me  to  try  again.  Instructed  by  the  first 
misadventure,  I  once  more  entered  the  stream.  Had 
the  alpenstock  been  of  iron,  it  might  have  helped 
me;  but,  as  it  was,  the  tendency  of  the  water  to 
sweep  it  out  of  my  hands  rendered  it  worse  than 
useless.  I  however  clung  to  it  from  habit. 


FIFTH    READER.  373 

Again  the  torrent  rose,  and  again  I  wavered; 
but,  by  keeping  the  left  hip  well  against  it,  I  re- 
mained upright,  and  at  length  grasped  the  hand  of 
my  leader  at  the  other  side.  He  laughed  pleasantly. 
"  ISTo  traveler,"  he  said,  "  was  ever  here  before." 
Soon  afterward,  by  trusting  to  a  piece  of  drift- 
wood which  seemed  firm,  I  was  again  taken  off  my 
feet,  but  was  immediately  caught  by  a  protruding 
rock. 

We  clambered  over  the  bowlders  toward  the 
thickest  spray,  which  soon  became  so  weighty  as 
to  cause  us  to  stagger  under  its  shock.  For  the 
most  part  nothing  could  be  seen;  we  were  in  the 
midst  of  bewildering  tumult,  lashed  by  the  water, 
which  sounded  at  times  like  the  cracking  of  innu- 
merable whips.  Underneath  this  was  the  deep  res- 
onant roar  of  the  cataract.  I  tried  to  shield  my 
eyes  with  my  hands  and  look  upward  but  the  de- 
fense was  useless.  The  guide  continued  to  move 
on,  but  at  a  certain  place  he  halted,  desiring  me 
to  take  shelter  in  his  lee,  and  observe  the  cataract. 

The  spray  did  not  come  so  much  from  the  upper 
ledge  as  from  the  rebound  of  the  shattered  water 
when  it  struck  the  bottom.  Hence  the  eyes  could 
be  protected  from  the  blinding  shock  of  the  spray, 
while  the  line  of  vision  to  the  upper  ledges  re- 
mained to  some  extent  clear.  On  looking  upward 
over  the  guide's  shoulder  I  could  see  the  water  bend- 
ing over  the  ledge,  while  the  Terrapin  TowerN  loomed 
fitfully  through  the  intermittent  spray-gusts.  We 
were  right  under  the  tower.  A  little  farther  on,  the 
cataract,  after  its  first  plunge,  hit  a  protuberance 
some  way  down,  and  flew  from  it  in  a  prodigious 
burst  of  spray;  through  this  we  staggered. 


374  FIFTH    READER. 

We  rounded  the  promontory  on  which  the  Ter- 
rapin Tower  stands,  and  moved,  amid  the  wildest 
commotion,  along  the  arm  of  the  Horseshoe,  until 
the  bowlders  failed  us,  and  the  cataract  fell  into  the 
profound  gorge  of  the  Niagara  River. 

Here  the  guide  sheltered  me  again,  and  desired 
me  to  look  up;  I  did  so,  and  could  see  as  "before 
the  green  gleam  of  the  mighty  curve  sweeping  over 
the  upper  ledge,  and  the  fitful  plunge  of  the  water, 
as  the  spray  between  us  and  it  alternately  gathered 
and  disappeared. 

We  returned,  clambering  at  intervals  up  and 
down,  so  as  to  catch  glimpses  of  the  most  impress- 
ive portions  of  the  cataract.  We  passed  under 
ledges  formed  by  tabular  masses  of  limestone,  and 
through  some  curious  openings  formed  by  the  fall- 
ing together  of  the  summits  of  the  rocks.  At 
length  we  found  ourselves  beside  our  enemy  of  the 
morning.  The  guide  halted  for  a  minute  or  two, 
scanning  the  torrent  thoughtfully.  I  said  that,  as  a 
guide,  he  ought  to  have  a  rope  in  such  a  place ; 
but  he  retorted  that,  as  no  traveler  had  ever  before 
thought  of  coming  there,  he  did  not  see  the  neces- 
sity of  keeping  a  rope. 

He  waded  in.  The  struggle  to  keep  himself  was 
evident  enough;  he  swayed,  but  recovered  himself 
again  and  again.  At  length  he  slipped,  gave  way, 
did  as  I  had  done,  threw  himself  toward  the  bank, 
and  was  swept  into  the  shallow.  Standing  in  the 
stream  near  its  edge,  he  stretched  his  arm  toward 
me.  I  retained  the  pitchfork  handle,  for  it  had 
been  useful  among  the  bowlders.  By  wading  some 
way  in  the  staff  could  be  made  to  reach  him,  and 
I  proposed  his  seizing  it. 


FIFTH    READER.  37S 

"If  you  arc  sure,"  he  replied,  "that  in  case  of 
giving  way  you  can  maintain  your  grasp,  then  I 
will  certainly  hold  you." 

Remarking  that  he  might  count  on  this,  I  waded 
in  and  stretched  the  staff  to  my  companion.  It  was 
firmly  grasped  "by  both  of  us.  This  helped ;  though 
its  onset  was  strong,  I  moved  safely  across  the  tor- 
rent. All  danger  ended  here. 

We  afterward  roamed  sociably  among  the  tor- 
rents andv  bowlders  below  the  Cave  of  the  Winds. 
The  rocks  were  covered  with  organic  slime,N  which 
could  not  have  been  walked  over  with  bare  feet,  but 
the  felt  shoes  effectually  prevented  slipping.  We 
reached  the  cave  and  entered  it,  first  by  a  wooden 
way  carried  over  the  bowlders,  and  then  along  a 
narrow  ledge,  to  the  point  eaten  deepest  into  the 
shale.  When  the  wind  is  from  the  south,  the  fall- 
ing water,  I  am  told,  can  bo  seen  tranquilly  from 
this  spot ;  but  when  we  were  there,  a  blinding 
hurricane  of  spray  was  whirled  against  us. 

JOHN  TYNDALL. 

Biography.— John  Tyndall,  the  eminent  physicist,  was  born  in 
Ireland  in  1820.  He  has  devoted  much  attention  to  the  solution 
of  scientific  problems,  and  his  works  on  heat,  light,  and  sound, 
rank  among  the  best  of  the  age. 

Tyndall  has  also  an  enviable  reputation  as  a  traveler  and 
explorer. 

Notes.  —  Al' pen  stock,  meaning  Alps'  stick,  is  a  long  staff  pointed 
with  iron,  used  in  traveling  among  the  Alps  and  other  moun- 
tains. 

Terrapin  Tower  was  a  small  tower  built  on  a  rock  just  above 
what  is  called  the  American  Fall. 

Organic  slime  is  a  soft,  moist  earth  or  sticky  mud,  containing 
the  lowest  forms  of  animal  or  plant  life. 

Composition.  — In  this  lesson  the  order  of  time  is  followed,  and 
it  is  therefore  a  narrative;  but  the  amount  of  descriptive  matter 
introduced  makes  it  a  descriptive  narrative. 


376  FIFTH    READER. 


.  —  THE     COLISEUM    AT     ROME. 


a  rS'na,   tJte  open  space  of  an 

amphitheater. 
o  beVsan9^,  a  bow;   expression 

of  respect. 
ad'ver  sa  ry,  opponent. 


am  phi  thg'a  ter,  an  oval- 
shaped  building  having  rows  of 
seats  one  above  another  around 
an  open  space  for  combats. 

Ir^,  rage. 

re  nown^d',  famous. 

p6p'u  la£^,  the  common  people. 


dls'-eon  $ert'  ing,  confusing. 

The  grandest  and  most  renowned  of  all  the  an- 
cient amphitheaters  is  the  Coliseum  at  Rome.  It 
was  built  by  Vespasian  and  his  son  Titus,  the  con- 
querors of  Jerusalem, x  in  a  valley  in  the  midst  of 
the  seven  hills  of  Rome.  The  captive  Jews  were 
forced  to  labor  at  it;  and  thr?  materials— granite 
outside,  and  a  softer  stone  within— are  so  solid,  and 
so  admirably  built,  that  still,  at  the  end  of  eighteen 
centuries,  it  has  scarcely  even  become  a  ruin,  but 
remains  one  of  the  greatest  wonders  of  Rome. 

Five  acres  of  ground  are  inclosed  within  the 
oval  of  its  outer  wall,  which,  outside,  rises  perpen- 
dicularly in  tiers  of  arches  one  above  another. 
Within,  the  galleries  of  seats  projected  forward, 
each  tier  coming  out  far  beyond  the  one  above  it; 
so  that  between  the  lowest  and  the  outer  wall  there 
was  room  for  a  great  variety  of  chambers,  passages, 
and  vaults  around  the  central  space,  called  the 
arena. 

Altogether,  when  full,  this  huge  building  held 
no  fewer  than  eighty-seven  thousand  spectators.  It 
had  no  roof;  but  when  there  was  rain,  or  if  the 
sun  was  too  hot,  the  sailors  in  the  porticoes  un- 
furled awnings  that  ran  along  upon  ropes,  and 
formed  a  covering  of  gold  and  silver  tissue  over 


FIFTH    READER.  377 

the  whole.  Purple  was  the  favorite  color  for  this 
veil ;  because,  when  the  sun  shone  through  it,  it 
cast  such  beautiful  rosy  tints  on  the  snowy  arena 
and  the  white,  purple-edged  togas  of  the  Roman 
citizens. 

When  the  emperor  had  seated  himself  and  given 
the  signal,  the  sports  began.  Sometimes  a  rope- 
dancing  elephant  would  begin  the  entertainment, 
by  mounting  even  to  the  summit  of  the  building, 
and  descending  by  a  cord.  Or  a  lion  came  forth 
with  a  jeweled  crown  upon  his  head,  a  diamond 
necklace  round  his  neck,  his  mane  plaited  with 
gold,  and  his  claws  gilded,  and  played  a  hundred, 
pretty,  gentle  antics  with  a  little  hare  that  danced 
fearlessly  within  his  grasp. 

Sometimes  water  was  let  into  the  arena,  a  ship 
sailed  in,  and  falling  to  pieces  in  the  midst,  sent 
a  crowd  of  strange  animals  swimming  in  all  direc- 
tions. Sometimes  the  ground  opened,  and  trees 
came  growing  up  through  it,  bearing  golden  fruit. 
Or  the  beautiful  old  tale  of  Orpheus N  was  acted: 
these  trees  would  follow  the  harp  and  song  of  the 
musician;  but— to  make  the  whole  part  complete— 
it  was  in  no  mere  play,  but  in  real  earnest,  that 
the  Orpheus  of  the  piece  fell  a  prey  to  live  bears. 

For  the  Coliseum  had  not  been  built  for  such 
harmless  spectacles  as  those  first  described.  The 
fierce  Romans  wanted  to  be  excited  and  to  feel 
themselves  strongly  stirred;  and,  presently,  the 
doors  of  the  pits  and  dens  around  the  arena  were 
thrown  open,  and  absolutely  savage  beasts  were  let 
loose  upon  one  another— rhinoceroses  and  tigers, 
bulls  and  lions,  leopards  and  wild  boars— while  the 
people  watched  with  ferocious  curiosity  to  see  the 


378  FIFTH    READER. 

various  kinds  of  attack  and  defense,  their  ears  at 
the  same  time  "being  delighted,  instead  of  horror- 
struck,  by  the  roars  and  howls  of  the  noble  creat- 
ures whose  courage  was  thus  misused. 

Wild  beasts  tearing  one  another  to  pieces  might, 
one  would  think,  satisfy  any  taste  for  horror;  but 
the  spectators  needed  even  nobler  game  to  be  set 
before  their  favorite  monsters;^ men  were  brought 
forward  to  confront  them.  Some  of  these  were,  at 
first,  in  full  armor,  and  fought  hard,  generally  with 
success.  Or  hunters  came,  almost  unarmed,  and 
gained  the  victory  by  swiftness  and  dexterity, 
throwing  a  piece  of  cloth  over  a  lion's  head,  or 
disconcerting  him  by  putting  their  fist  down  his 
throat. 

But  it  was  not  only  skill,  but  death,  that  the 
Romans  liked  to  see ;  and  condemned  criminals  and 
deserters  were  reserved  to  feast  the  lions,  and  to 
entertain  the  populace  with  their  various  kinds  of 
death.  Among  those  condemned  was  many  a  Chris- 
tian martyr,  who  witnessed  a  good  confession  before 
the  savage-eyed  multitude  around  the  arena,  and 
met  the  lion's  gory  mane  with  a  calm  resolution 
and  a  hopeful  joy  that  the  lookers-on  could  not 
understand.  To  see  a  Christian  die,  with  upward 
gaze,  and  hymns  of  joy  on  his  tongue,  was  the 
most  strange  and  unaccountable  sight  the  Coliseum 
could  offer;  and  it  was  therefore  the  choicest,  and 
reserved  for  the  last  of  the  spectacles  in  which  the 
brute  creation  had  a  part. 

The  carcasses  were  dragged  off  with  hooks,  the 
blood-stained  sand  was  covered  with  a  fresh,  clean 
layer,  perfume  was  wafted  in  stronger  clouds,  and  a 
procession  came  forward— tall,  well-made  men,  in 


FIFTH    READER.  379 

the  prime  of  their  strength.  Some  carried  a  sword 
and  a  lasso,  others  a  trident  and  a  net;  some  were 
in  light  armor,  others  in  the  full,  heavy  equipment 
of  a  soldier;  some  on  horseback,  some  in  chariots, 
some  on  foot.  They  marched  in,  and  made  their 
obeisance  to  the  emperor,  and  with  one  voice  their 
greeting  sounded  through  the  building:  "Hail,  Cae- 
sar! We  who  are  about  to  die  salute  thee!"N  They 
were  the  gladiators— the  swordsmen  trained  to  fight 
to  the  death  to  amuse  the  populace. 

Fights  of  all  sorts  took  place— the  light-armed 
soldier  and  the  netsman— the  lasso  and  the  javelin 
—the  two  heavy-armed  warriors,— all  combinations 
of  single  combat,  and  sometimes  a  general  mele*e  of 
the  athletes. 

"When  a  gladiator  wounded  his  adversary,  he 
shouted  to  the  spectators,  "  He  has  it ! "  and  looked 
up  to  know  whether  he  should  kill  or  spare.  When 
the  people  held  up  their  thumbs,  the  conquered  was 
left  to  recover,  if  he  could;  if  they  turned  them 
down,  he  was  to  die;  and  if  he  showed  any  reluc- 
tance to  present  his  throat  for  the  death  blow,  there 
was  a  scornful  shout,  "Receive  the  steel!" 

Many  of  us  must  have  seen  casts  of  that  most 
touching  statue  of  the  Wounded  Gladiator,  that 
called  forth  from  Byron N  these  noble  lines  of  in- 
dignant pity: 

I  see  before  me  the  gladiator  lie : 

He  leans  upon  his  hand ;  his  manly  brow 
Consents  to  death,  but  conquers  agony ; 

And  his  drooped  head  sinks  gradually  low ; 

And  through  his  side  the  last  drops,  ebbing  slow 
From  the  red  gash,  fall  heavy,  one  by  one, 

Like  the  first  of  a  thunder  shower ;  and  now 
The  arena  swims  around  him  —  he  is  gone, 
Ere  ceased  the  inhuman  shout  which  hailed  the  wretch  who  won, 


38O  FIFTH    READER. 


He  heard  it,  but  he  heeded  not ;  his  eyes 

Were  with  his  heart,  and  that  was  far  away: 

He  recked  not  of  the  life  he  lost,  nor  prize ; 
But  where  his  rude  hut  by  the  Danube  lay  — 
There  were  his  young  barbarians N  all  at  play, 

There  was  their  DacianN  mother— he  their  sire, 
Butchered  to  make  a  lioman  holiday  — 

All  this  rushed  with  his  blood.— Shall  he  expire, 

And  unavenged?  — Arise,  ye  Goths,N  and  glut  your  ire! 

CHARLOTTE  M.  YONGE. 

Biogrnphy.— Charlotte  M.  Tonge  is  a  popular  English  authoress. 

Her  first  production,  "Abbey  Church,"  was  published  in  1844. 
This  was  followed  by  "Kings  of  England"  and  "Landmarks  of 
History."  Her  works  number  about  thirty. 

Notes.— The  "Conquerors  of  Jerusalem,"  Vespasian  and  Titus, 
lived  in  the  first  century  A.  D. 

Or'phe  us,  a  musician  of  fabulous  times,  was  said  to  move  rocks 
and  trees  by  the  music  of  his  lyre. 

""We  who  are  about  to  die,  salute  thee"  is  the  translation  of 
the  Latin  words  moritu'ri,  te  salutd'mus. 

Jtyron  (1788-1824)  was  one  of  the  most  famous  of  English  poets. 

Barbarians  was  a  term  applied  by  Greeks  and  Romans  to  for- 
eigners, because  their  language  sounded  to  them  like  "bar,  bar." 

Da' dan,  belonging  to  an  ancient  tribe  beyond  the  Danube. 

Goths,  a  barbarous  nation  that  formerly  inhabited  Europe. 


85.— k.    ROMAN     LEGEND. 


•e6r'o  net,  an  inferior  crown. 
delved,  dug. 
en  chased',  adorned. 
vl'andg,  provisions. 


man'i  f51d,  many. 
]am"  bent,  gleaming. 
ter  r£s'  tri  al,  eartMi 
pe'lf,  riches ;  money. 


me  di  as"  val,  of  the  middle  ages.      se  quSs'ter^d,  secluded;  quiet. 

In  mediaeval  Rome,  I  know  not  where, 

There  stood  an  image  with  its  arm  in  air, 

And  on  its  lifted  finger,  shining  clear, 

A  golden  ring  with  the  device,  "  Strike  here ! " 

Greatly  the  people  wondered,  though  none  guessed 

The  meaning  that  these  words  "but  half  expressed, 


FIFTH    READER.  381 

Until  a  learned  clerk,  who  at  noonday 

With  downcast  eyes  was  passing  on  his  way, 

Paused,  and  observed  the  spot,  and  marked  it  well, 

Whereon  the  shadow  of  the  finger  fell; 

And,  coming  back  at  midnight,  delved,  and  found 

A  secret  stair-way  leading  under  ground. 

Down  this  he  passed  into  a  spacious  hall, 

Lit  by  a  flaming  jewel  on  the  wall ; 

And  opposite,  in  threatening  attitude 

With  bow  and  shaft  a  brazen  statue  stood. 

Upon  its  forehead,  like  a  coronet, 

Were  these  mysterious  words  of  menace  set : 

"That  which  I  am,  I  am;   my  fatal  aim 

None  can  escape,  not  even  yon  luminous  flame ! " 

Midway  the  hall  was  a  fair  table  placed, 

With  cloth  of  gold  and  golden  cups  enchased 

With  rubies,  and  the  plates  and  knives  were  gold, 

And  gold  the  bread  and  viands  manifold. 

Around  it,  silent,  motionless,  and  sad, 

Were  seated  gallant  knights  in  armor  clad, 

And  ladies  beautiful  with  plume  and  zone, 

But  they  were  stone,  their  hearts  within  were  stone ; 

And  the  vast  hall  was  filled  in  every  part 

With  silent  crowds,  stony  in  face  and  heart. 

Long  at  the  scene,  bewildered  and  amazed, 
The  trembling  clerk  in  speechless  wonder  gazed; 
Then  from  the  table,  by  his  greed  made  bold, 
He  seized  a  goblet  and  a  knife  of  gold, 
And  sudden  from  their  seats  the  guests  upsprang, 
The  vaulted  ceiling  with  loud  clamors  rang, 
The  archer  sped  his  arrow,  at  their  call, 
Shattering  the  lambent  jewel  on  the  wall, 


382  FIFTH    READER. 

And  all  was  dark  around  and  overhead;— 
Stark  on  the  floor  the  luckless  clerk  lay  dead! 

The  writer  of  this  legend  then  records 

Its  ghostly  application  in  these  words: 

The  image  is  the  Adversary  old, 

Whose  beckoning  finger  points  to  realms  of  gold^ 

Our  lusts  and  passions  are  the  downward  stair 

That  leads  the  soul  from  a  diviner  air; 

The  archer,  Death ;  the  flaming  jewel,  Life ; 

Terrestrial  goods,  the  goblet  and  the  knife; 

The  knights  and  ladies,  all  whose  flesh  and  bone 

By  avarice  have  been  hardened  into  stone ; 

The  clerk,  the  scholar,  whom  the  love  of  pelf 

Tempts  from  his  books  and  from  his  nobler  self. 

The  scholar  and  the  world  1     The  endless  strife, 

The  discord  in  the  harmonies  of  life ! 

The  love  of  learning,  the  sequestered  nooks, 

And  all  the  sweet  serenity  of  books ; 

The  market-place,  the  eager  love  of  gain, 

Whose  aim  is  vanity,  and  whose  end  is  pain! 

LONGFELLOW. 


Biography.  — Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow  (1807-1882)  may 
justly  be  called  the  most  popular  of  America's  poets. 

He  graduated  from  Bowdoin  (Bod'n)  College  in  1825,  and  be- 
gan the  practice  of  law ;  "but  the  tempting  offer  of  a  professor- 
ship in  Bowdoin  induced  him  to  begin  a  literary  life.  His  first 
prose  work,  "Outre  Mer"  (Beyond  the  Sea),  appeared  in  1835, 
and  during  the  same  year  he  was  called  to  a  professorship  in 
Harvard  College. 

Longfellow  visited  Europe  a  number  of  times  in  order  to  per- 
fect his  acquaintance  with  the  languages  and  the  literature  of 
the  different  nations.  As  a  man  and  as  a  poet,  he  seems  to 
have  been  in  perfect  harmony  with  all  classes  of  society,  and 
his  writings  have  reached  an  enormous  sale  in  both  England  and 
America. 


FIFTH    READER.  383 


86.— THE     GOLDEN     TEMPLE    OF    PERU. 


sub'  ter    ra'  ne   fcjus,   under- 
ground. 

do  main',  estate;  property. 
mu  nlf'i  90 119^,  generosity. 
•eor'nl?  e§,  projecting  pieces. 
vSn'er  a'tion,  awe/  respect. 


ew'  erg  (yur§),  pitcliers  with  uxde 


a  j#a£  band. 
9§ns/er§,  0#s£*  or  ^a/i*  in  which 

incense  is  burned. 
ap  pro'  pri  at  ed,  assigned. 


The  worship  of  the  Sun  constituted  the  peculiar 
care  of  the  Incas,  and  was  the  object  of  their  lavish 
expenditure.  The  most  ancient  of  the  many  tem- 
ples dedicated  to  this  divinity  was  in  the  Island  of 
Titicaca,  whence  the  royal  founders  of  the  Peruvian 
line  were  said  to  have  proceeded.  From  this  cir- 
cumstance this  sanctuary  was  held  in  peculiar  ven- 
eration. 

Every  thing  Avhich  "belonged  to  it,  even  the 
broad  fields  of  maize,  which  surrounded  the  temple, 
and  formed  part  of  its  domain,  partook  of  a  por- 
tion of  its  sanctity.  The  yearly  produce  was  dis- 
tributed among  the  different  public  store-houses,  in 
small  quantities  to  each,  as  something  that  would 
sanctify  the  remainder  of  their  contents.  Happy 
was  the  man  who  could  secure  even  an  ear  of  the 
blessed  harvest  for  his  own  granary! 

But  the  most  renowned  of  the  Peruvian  temples, 
the  pride  of  the  capital,  and  the  wonder  of  the 
empire,  was  at  Cuzco,  where,  under  the  munificence 
of  successive  sovereigns,  it  had  become  so  enriched, 
that  it  received  the  name  of  Coricancha,  or  "The 
Place  of  Gold."  It  consisted  of  a  principal  building 
and  several  chapels  and  inferior  edifices,  covering 
a  large  extent  of  ground  in  the  heart  of  the  city, 


384  FIFTH    READER. 

and  completely  surrounded  by  a  wall,  which,  with 
the  edifices,  was  all  constructed  of  stone. 

The  work  was  so  finely  executed  that  a  Spaniard, 
who  saw  it  in  its  glory,  assures  us  he  could  call  to 
mind  only  two  edifices  in  Spain,  which,  for  their 
workmanship,  were  at  all  to  "be  compared  with  it. 
Yet  this  substantial,  and,  in  some  respects,  magnifi- 
cent structure,  was  thatched  with  straw  1 

The  interior  of  the  temple  was  the  most  worthy 
of  admiration.  It  was  literally  a  mine  of  gold.  On 
the  western  wall  was  emblazoned  a  representation 
of  the  deity,  consisting  of  a  human  countenance 
looking  forth  from  innumerable  rays  of  light,  which 
darted  out  from  it  in  every  direction.  The  figure 
was  engraved  on  a  massive  plate  of  gold  of  enor- 
mous dimensions,  thickly  powdered  with  emeralds 
and  other  precious  stones. 

It  was  so  situated  in  front  of  the  great  eastern 
portal,  that  the  rays  of  the  morning  sun  fell  di- 
rectly upon  it  at  its  rising,  lighting  up  the  whole 
apartment  with  a  brilliancy  that  seemed  more  than 
natural,  and  which  was  reflected  back  from  the 
golden  ornaments  with  which  the  walls  and  ceil- 
ing were  every-where  incrusted. 

Gold  was  said  by  the  people  to  be  "the  tears 
wept  by  the  sun,"  and  every  part  of  the  interior 
of  the  temple  glowed  with  burnished  plates  and 
studs  of  the  precious  metal.  The  cornices,  which 
surrounded  the  walls  of  the  sanctuary,  were  of  the 
same  costly  material ;  and  a  broad  belt  or  frieze  of 
gold,  let  into  the  stone-work,  surroimded  the  whole 
exterior  of  the  edifice. 

Adjoining  the  principal  structure  were  several 
chapels  of  smaller  dimensions.  One  of  them  was 


FIFTH    READER.  385 

consecrated  to  the  Moon,  the  deity  held  next  in 
reverence,  as  the  mother  of  the  Incas.  Her  effigy 
was  represented  in  the  same  manner  as  that  of  the 
Sun,  on  a  vast  plate  that  nearly  covered  one  side 
of  the  apartment.  But  this  plate,  as  well  as  all  the 
decorations  of  the  building,  was  of  silver,  as  suited 
to  the  pale  silvery  light  of  the  beautiful  planet. 

There  were  three  other  chapels,  one  of  which 
was  dedicated  to  the  host  of  Stars,  that  formed  the 
bright  court  of  the  Sister  of  the  Sun ;  another  was 
consecrated  to  his  dread  ministers  of  vengeance, 
the  Thunder  and  the  Lightning;  and  a  third  to 
the  Rainbow,  whose  many-colored  arch  spanned  the 
walls  of  the  edifice  with  hues  almost  as  radiant  as 
its  own.  There  were  besides  several  other  build- 
ings, or  isolated  apartments,  for  the  accommoda- 
tion of  the  numerous  priests  who  conducted  the 
services  of  the  temple. 

All  the  plate,  the  ornaments,  the  utensils  of 
every  description,  appropriated  to  the  uses  of  re- 
ligion, were  of  gold  and  silver.  Twelve  immense 
vases  of  the  latter  metal  stood  on  the  floor  of  the 
great  saloon,  filled  with  grain  of  the  Indian  corn; 
the  censers  for  the  perfumes,  the  ewers  which  held 
the  water  for  sacrifice,  the  pipes  which  conducted 
it  through  subterraneous  channels  into  the  build- 
ings, the  reservoirs  that  received  it,  even  the  agri- 
cultural implements  used  in  the  gardens  of  the 
temple,  were  all  of  the  same  rich  materials. 

The  gardens  sparkled  with  flowers  of  gold  and 
silver,  and  various  imitations  of  the  vegetable  king- 
dom. Animals,  also,  were  to  be  found  there,— among 
which  the  llama,  with  its  golden  fleece,  was  most 
prominent,— executed  in  the  same  style,  and  with  a 


386  FIFTH    READER. 

degree  of  skill,  which,  in  this  instance,  probably, 
did  not  surpass  the  excellence  of  the  material. 

Perhaps  the  most  magnificent  of  all  the  national 
solemnities  was  the  feast  of  Raymi,  held  at  the 
period  of  the  summer  solstice,N  when  the  Sun,  hav- 
ing touched  the  southern  extremity  of  his  course, 
retraced  his  path,  as  if  to  gladden  the  hearts  of  his 
chosen  people  by  his  presence.  On  this  occasion  the 
Indian  nobles  from  the  different  quarters  of  the 
country  thronged  to  the  capital  to  take  part  in  the 
great  religious  celebration. 

For  three  days  previous,  there  was  a  general  fast, 
and  no  fire  was  allowed  to  be  lighted  in  the  dwell- 
ings. When  the  appointed  day  arrived,  the  Inca 
and  his  court,  followed  by  the  whole  population  of 
the  city,  assembled  at  early  dawn  in  the  great  square 
to  greet  the  rising  of  the  sun. 

They  were  dressed  in  their  gayest  apparel,  and 
the  Indian  lords  vied  with  one  another  in  the  dis- 
play of  costly  ornaments  and  jewels  on  their  per- 
sons, while  canopies  of  gaudy  feather-work  and 
richly  tinted  stuffs,  borne  by  the  attendants  over 
their  heads,  gave  to  the  great  square  and  the  streets 
that  emptied  into  it,  the  appearance  of  being  spread 
over  with  one  vast  and  magnificent  awning. 

Eagerly  they  watched  the  coming  of  their  deity, 
and,  no  sooner  did  his  first  yellow  rays  strike  the 
turrets  and  loftiest  buildings  of  the  capital,  than  a 
shout  of  joy  broke  forth  from  the  assembled  mul- 
titude, accompanied  by  songs  of  triumph,  and  the 
wild  melody  of  barbaric  instruments,  that  swelled 
louder  and  louder  as  his  bright  orb,  rising  above 
the  mountain  range  toward  the  east,  shone  in  full 
splendor  on  his  worshipers. 


FIFTH     READER. 


387 


After  the  usual  ceremonies  of  adoration,  a  liba- 
tion was  offered  to  the  great  deity  by  the  Inca,  from 
a  huge  golden  vase,  filled  with  the  fermented  liquor 
of  maize  or  of  maguey,  which,  after  the  monarch 
had  tasted  it  himself,  he  distributed  among  his 
royal  kindred.  These  ceremonies  completed,  the 
vast  assembly  was  arranged  in  order  of  procession, 
and  took  its  way  toward  the  Coricancha. 

WILLIAM  H.  PRESCOTT. 

Biography.  — William  Hickling  Prescott  (1796-1859)  was  a  native 
of  Salem,  Massachusetts,  and  a  graduate  of  Harvard  College. 

After  a  visit  to  Europe,  he  married  and  decided  to  adopt  a 
literary  life.  His  determination  in  1819  was  to  devote  ten  years 
to  study  and  ten  years  to  composition.  His  first  work,  "History 
of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,"  was  published  in  1837,  and  met  with 
great  success.  "History  of  the  Conquest  of  Mexico"  appeared  in 
1843;  "Conquest  of  Peru"  in  1847,  and  "History  of  Philip  II." 
in  1855-8. 

His  writings  have  been  much  admired,  and  are  translated  into 
French,  Spanish,  and  German.  Prescott  was  very  methodical  in 
his  habits.  Every  day  he  devoted  five  hours  to  literary  work 
and  two  hours  to  reading  novels. 

Note.  — The  summer  solstice,  in  Peru,  occurs  on  Dec.  21,  when 
the  farthest  point  south  of  the  equator  is  touched  by  the  sun. 


<?7.  — CAPTURE     AND      ESCAPE     OF     GENERAL 
WADSWORTH. 


ml  II'  tia  (mi  lish'a),  state  sol- 
diers. 

pa  rol',  a  promise  to  fulfill  certain 
conditions. 

•ear  15 r,  a  written  message. 

par' a  p£t,  watt. 

in'  ter  sti  965,  spaces  between. 


•eoun'ter  &earp,  outside  slope 

of  the  ditch. 
bas'tion  (bast'yun),  outside  part 

of  the  main  inclosure. 
in  ta-et',  untouched. 
pl-eVet,  guard. 
per'  fo  rat  ed,  pierced. 


It    was   not    long   after  the    complete    dispersion 
of  the  ill-starred  Penobscot  expedition  that  General 


388  FIFTH    READER. 

Peleg  Wadswortli  succeeded  in  entering1  the  British 
fort  on  the  hill  at  Bagaduce.  He  had  more  diffi- 
culty in  leaving  it. 

After  the  disbanding  of  his  militia,  the  general 
made  his  quarters  at  Thomaston,  Maine,  where  he 
lived  with  his  wife  in  apparent  security.  A  young 
lady,  named  Fenno,  and  a  guard  of  six  militia-men 
completed  his  garrison.  General  Campbell,  com- 
manding at  Bagaduce,  was  well  informed  of  Wads- 
worth's  defenseless  condition,  and  resolved  to  send 
him  an  invitation  to  come  and  reside  in  the  fortress. 

A  lieutenant  and  twenty-five  men  arrived  at 
dead  of  night  with  the  message  at  Wadsworth's 
house.  The  sentinel  challenged  and  fled.  General 
Wadsworth  defended  himself  with  Spartan  bravery. 
Armed  with  a  brace  of  pistols,  a  fusee,N  and  a  blun- 
derbuss,* he  fought  his  assailants  away  from  the 
windows  and  the  door,  through  which  they  had 
followed  the  retreating  sentinel.  Arrayed  in  his 
night-clothes,  with  his  bayonet  only,  he  disdained 
to  yield  for  some  time  longer,  until  a  shot  disabled 
his  left  arm.  Then,  with  five  or  six  men  lying 
wounded  around  him,  the  windows  shattered,  and 
the  house  on  fire,  Peleg  Wadsworth  was  able  to  say, 
"I  surrender." 

They  took  him,  exhausted  with  his  exertions, 
and  benumbed  with  cold,  to  the  fort,  where  he  was 
kept  close  prisoner.  Some  time  after,  Major  Burton, 
who  had  served  with  the  general,  was  also  made 
prisoner  and  lodged  in  the  same  room  with  him. 
Wadsworth  applied  for  a  parol.  It  was  refused. 
Q-overnor  Hancock  sent  a  cartel  with  an  offer  of 
exchange.  It  was  denied.  One  day  he  was  visited 
by  Miss  Fenno,  who  in  a  few  words  gave  him  to 


FIFTH    READER.  389 

know  that  he  was  to  be  detained  till  the  end  of 
the  war.  He  then  resolved  to  escape. 

The  prisoners  were  confined  in  a  room  of  the 
officers'  quarters,  the  window  grated,  the  door  pro- 
vided with  a  sash,  through  which  the  sentinel,  con- 
stantly on  duty  in  the  passage,  could  look  into  the 
room  as  he  paced  on  his  round.  At  either  end  of 
this  passage  was  a  door,  opening  upon  the  parade  of 
the  fort,  at  which  other  sentinels  were  posted.  At 
sunset  the  gates  were  closed,  and  the  number  of 
sentinels  on  the  parapet  increased.  A  picket  was 
also  stationed  at  the  narrow  isthmus  connecting 
with  the  main-land. 

These  were  not  all  the  difficulties  in  their  way. 
Supposing  them  able  to  pass  the  sentinels  in  the 
passage,  and  at  the  outer  door  of  their  quarters, 
they  must  then  cross  the  open  space  and  ascend 
the  wall  under  the  eye  of  the  guards  posted  on 
the  parapet.  Admitting  the  summit  of  the  ram- 
part gained,  the  exterior  wall  was  defended  with 
strong  pickets  driven  obliquely  into  the  earthern 
wall  of  the  fort. 

From  this  point  was  a  sheer  descent  of  twenty 
feet  to  the  bottom  of  the  ditch.  Arrived  here,  the 
fugitives  must  ascend  the  counterscarp,  and  cross 
the  chevaux-de-friseN  with  which  it  was  furnished. 
They  were  then  without  the  fortress,  with  no  pos- 
sible means  of  gaining  their  freedom  except  by 
water.  To  elude  the  picket  at  the  2sTeck  was  not  to 
be  thought  of. 

The  prisoners'  room  was  ceiled  with  pine  boards. 
Upon  some  pretext  they  procured  a  gimlet  of  a 
servant,  with  which  they  perforated  a  board  so  as 
to  make  an  aperture  sufficiently  large  to  admit  the 


S9O  FIFTH    READER. 

body  of  a  man.  The  interstices  were  cut  through 
with  a  penknife,  leaving  the  corners  intact  until 
the  moment  for  action  should  arrive.  They  then 
filled  the  holes  with  bread,  and  carefully  removed 
the  dust  from  the  floor. 

This  work  had  to  be  executed  while  the  sentinel 
traversed  a  distance  equal  to  twice  the  length  of 
their  own  room.  The  prisoners  paced  their  floor, 
keeping  step  with  the  sentry;  and,  as  soon  as  he 
had  passed  by,  Burton,  who  was  the  taller,  and 
could  reach  the  ceiling,  commenced  work,  while 
Wadsworth  walked  on.  On  the  approach  of  the  sol- 
dier, Burton  quickly  rejoined  his  companion.  Three 
weeks  were  required  to  execute  this  task.  Each 
was  provided  with  a  blanket  and  a  strong  staff, 
sharpened  at  the  end.  For  food  they  kept  their 
crusts  and  dried  bits  of  their  meat. 

They  waited  until  one  night  when  a  violent 
thunder-storm  swept  over  the  peninsula.  It  became 
intensely  dark.  The  rain  fell  in  torrents  upon  the 
roof  of  the  barracks.  The  moment  for  action  had 
come.  The  prisoners  undressed  themselves  as  usual, 
and  went  to  bed,  observed  by  the  sentinel.  They 
then  extinguished  their  candle  and  quickly  arose. 

Their  plan  was  to  gain  the  vacant  space  above 
their  room,  creeping  along  the  joists  until  they 
reached  the  passage  next  beyond,  which  they  knew 
to  be  unguarded.  Thence  they  were  to  make  their 
way  to  the  north  bastion,  acting  as  circumstances 
might  determine. 

Burton  was  the  first  to  pass  through  the  open- 
ing. He  had  advanced  but  a  little  way  before  he 
encountered  a  flock  of  fowls,  whose  roost  he  had 
invaded.  Wadsworth  listened  with  breathless  anx- 


FIFTH    READER.  391 

iety  to  the  cackling  that  apprised  him  for  the  first 
time  of  this  new  danger.  At  length  it  ceased  with- 
out having  attracted  the  attention  of  the  guards, 
and  the  general  with  difficulty  ascended  in  his 
turn.  He  passed  over  the  distance  to  the  gallery 
unnoticed,  and  gained  the  outside  by  the  door  that 
Burton  had  left  open. 

Feeling  his  way  along,  the  wall  of  the  barracks 
to  the  western  side,  he  made  a  bold  push  for  the 
embankment,  gaining  the  rampart  by  an  oblique 
path.  At  this  moment  the  door  of  the  guard-house 
was  flung  open,  and  a  voice  exclaimed,  "Belief, 
turn  out ! "  Fortunately  the  guard  passed  without 
seeing  the  fugitive.  He  reached  the  bastion  agreed 
upon  as  a  rendezvous,  but  Burton  was  not  there. 
No  time  was  to  be  lost.  Securing  his  blanket  to  a 
picket,  he  lowered  himself  as  far  as  it  would  per- 
mit, and  dropped  without  accident  into  the  ditch. 
From  here  he  passed  softly  out  by  the  water-course, 
and  stood  in  the  open  air  without  the  fort.  It 
being  low  tide,  the  general  waded  the  cove  to  the 
main-land,  and  made  the  best  of  his  way  up  the 
river.  In  the  morning  he  was  rejoined  by  his 
companion,  and  both,  after  exertions  that  exacted 
all  their  fortitude,  gained  the  opposite  shore  of  the 
Penobscot  in  safety.  Their  evasion  is  like  a  ro- 
mance of  the  BastileN  in  the  days  of  Kichelieu.N 

S.  A.  DRAKE. 

Notes.— FH§ee',  a  small,  light  musket  with  a  long,  thin  barrel. 
The  name  is  from  fusil,  meaning  a  spindle. 

Blunderbuss,  a  kind  of  short  musket  with  a  very  wide  bore, 
sufficient  to  take  in  several  bullets  at  once.  It  is  a  destructive 
weapon  at  close  quarters. 

Chevauac-de-frise  (sheV  o-de-freez)  is  a  defense  constructed  of 
wood  or  iron  in  such  a  way  as  to  present  an  array  of  sharp, 


392 


FIFTH    READER. 


ragged  points  toward  an  enemy.  It  is  an  impassable  barrier  to 
cavalry. 

Bastile  (bas  teelO  was  a  famous  French  fortress,  whose  towers 
and  cellars  were  used  as  prisons.  The  inmates  of  the  dungeons 
of  the  Bastile  were  entirely  shut  off  from  hope  of  escape,  and  for- 
gotten by  the  outside  world. 

Richelieu  (Rish' eh  lob)  (1585-1642)  was  a  famous  French  states- 
man. 

Language. — Nouns  or  pronouns  used  as  the  subject  of  a  sentence 
are  said  to  be  in  the  nominative  case.  Point  out  four  examples 
of  nominative  cage  in  the  lesson. 


8  8 .  —  S  N  O  W  -  B  O  U  N  D . 


mlr'a  -el^,  a  wonder;  something 

contrary  to  the  laics  of  nature. 
wan'  ing,  declining. 
pSl'li  -el^,  crystal. 
•eouch'ant,  lying  down. 

,  harmonious  movement 


p6r  t£nt',  an  omen;   an  indica- 
tion. 

),  orb. 

,  fretful;  complain- 
ing. 
llt'ter^d,  placed  straw  for  beds. 


The  sun,  that  brief  December  day, 

Rose  cheerless  over  hills  of  gray, 

And,  darkly  circled,  gave  at  noon 

A  sadder  light  than  waning  moon. 

Slow  tracing  down  the  thickening  sky 

Its  mute  and  ominous  prophecy, 

A  por'tent  seeming  less  than  threat, 

It  sunk  from  sight  before  it  set. 

A  chill,  no  coat,  however  stout, 

Of  homespun  stuff  could  quite  shut  out, 

A  hard,  dull  bitterness  of  cold, 

That  checked,  mid-vein,  the  circling  race 
Or  life-blood  in  the  sharpened  face, 

The  coming  of  the  snow-storm  told. 

The  wind  blew  east;   we  heard  the  roar 

Of  Ocean  on  his  wintry  shore, 


FIFTH    READER.  393 

And  felt  the  strong-  pulse  throbbing  there 
Beat  with  low  rhythm  our  inland  air. 

Meanwhile  we  did  our  nightly  chores, — 
Brought  in  the  wood  from  out  of  doors, 
Littered  the  stalls,  and  from  the  mows 
Raked  down  the  herd's-grass  for  the  cows: 
Heard  the  horse  whinnying  for  his  corn; 
And,  sharply  clashing  horn  on  horn, 
Impatient  down  the  stanchion  rows 
The  cattle  shake  their  walnut  bows; 
While,  peering  from  his  early  perch 
Upon  the  scaffold's  pole  of  birch, 
The  cock  his  crested  helmet  bent, 
And  down  his  querulous  challenge  sent. 

Unwarmed  by  any  sunset  light 

The  gray  day  darkened  into  night,— 

A  night  made  hoary  with  the  swarm, 

And  whirl-dance  of  the  blinding  storm, 

As  zigzag  wavering  to  and  fro 

Crossed  and  recrossed  the  winged  snow: 

And  ere  the  early  bedtime  came 

The  white  drift  piled  the  window-frame, 

And  through  the  glass  the  clothes-line  posts 

Looked  in  like  tall  and  sheeted  ghosts. 

So  all  night  long  the  storm  roared  on: 

The  morning  broke  without  a  sun; 

In  tiny  spherule  traced  with  lines 

Of  Nature's  geometric  signs, 

In  starry  flake,  and  pellicle, 

All  day  the  hoary  meteor  fell; 

And,  when  the  second  morning  shone, 


394  FIFTH    READER. 

We  looked  upon  a  world  unknown, 

On  nothing*  we  could  call  our  own. 

Around  the  glistening  wonder  bent 

The  blue  walls  of  the  firmament, 

No  cloud  above,  no  earth  below,— 

A  universe  of  sky  and  snow! 

The  old  familiar  sights  of  ours 

Took  marvelous  shapes;  strange  domes  and 

towers 

Bose  up  where  sty  or  corn-crib  stood, 
Or  garden  wall,  or  belt  of  wood; 
A  smooth,  white  mound  the  brush-pile  showed, 
A  fenceless  drift  what  once  was  road; 
The  bridle-post  an  old  man  sat 
With  loose-flung  coat  and  high  cocked  hat; 
The  well-curb  had  a  Chinese  roof; 
And  even  the  long  sweep,  high  aloof, 
In  its  slant  splendor,  seemed  to  tell 
Of  Pisa's N  leaning  miracle. 
*###*####**» 
As  night  drew  on,  and,  from  the  crest 
Of  wooded  knolls  that  ridged  the  west, 
The  sun,  a  snow-blown  traveler,  sank 
From  sight  beneath  the  smothering  bank, 
We  piled,  with  care,  our  nightly  stack 
Of  wood  against  the  chimney-back,— 
The  oaken  log,  green,  huge,  and  thick, 
And  on  its  top  the  stout  back-stick; 
The  knotty  forestick  laid  apart, 
And  filled  between  with  curious  art 
The  ragged  brush;  then,  hovering  near, 
We  watched  the  first  red  blaze  appear, 
Heard  the  sharp  crackle,  caught  the  gleam 
On  whitewashed  wall  and  sagging  beam, 


FIFTH    READER.  395 

Until  the  old,  rude-furnished  room 
Burst,  flower-like,  into  rosy  "bloom; 
While  radiant  with  a  mimic  flame 
Outside  the  sparkling  drift  "became, 
And  through  the  bare-boughed  lilac-tree 
Our  own  warm  hearth  seemed  "blazing  free. 

X-***  ******** 

Shut  in  from  all  the  world  without, 
We  sat  the  clean-winged  hearth  about, 
Content  to  let  the  north-wind  roar 
In  "baffled  rage  at  pane  and  door, 
While  the  red  logs  before  us .  beat 
The  frost-line  back  with  tropic  heat; 
And  ever,  when  a  louder  blast 
Shook  beam  and  rafter  as  it  passed, 
The  merrier  up  its  roaring  draught 
The  great  throat  of  the  chimney  laughed, 
The  house-dog  on  his  paws  outspread, 
Laid  to  the  fire  his  drowsy  head, 
The  cat's  dark  silhouette N  on  the  wall 
A  couchant  tiger's  seemed  to  fall; 
And,  for  the  winter  fireside  meet, 
Between  the  andirons'  straddling  feet, 
The  mug  of  cider  simmered  slow, 
The  apples  sputtered  in  a  row, 
And,  close  at  hand,  the  basket  stood 
With  nuts  from  brown  October's  wood. 

What  matter  how  the  night  behaved? 
What  matter  how  the  north- wind  raved? 
Blow  high,  blow  low,  not  all  its  snow 
Could  quench  our  hearth-fire's  ruddy  glow. 

JOHN  G.  WHITTIER. 


396  FIFTH    READER. 


Biography.— For  biographical  sketch  of  John  Q-reenleaf  Whit- 
tier,  see  page  83. 

Notes.  —  Pisa's  (Pee'sa's)  leaning  miracle.  At  Pisa,  Italy,  there  is 
a  round,  marble  tower,  180  feet  high,  called  the  Leaning  Tower, 
on  account  of  its  deviating  fourteen  feet  from  the  perpendicular. 
Although  this  wonderful  tower  is  apparently  about  to  fall,  it  has 
stood  firm  for  more  than  seven  hundred  years. 

Silhouette  (sil'dbet)  is  a  shadow  outline  filled  in  with  a  dark 
color.  A  hundred  years  ago,  the  profile  silhouettes  of  individuals 
"were  cut  out  of  black  paper,  and  were  kept  as  likenesses.  Hu- 
morous illustrations  of  the  silhouette  order  are  now  common  in 
pictorial  papers. 

Elocution,  — With  what  tone  of  voice  should  this  poem  be  read? 


89.— THE  RUBBER  TREES  OF  THE  AMAZON. 

•eon  v61'vu  IT,  cUmUng  plants  I  man'grov^g,    certain   tropical 

with  bell-shaped  flowers.  trees. 

ar'bo  rSs'9ent,  tree-like. 
a'rftmg,  lilies. 
dst'u  a  ry,  an  arm  of  the  sea. 


,  chills. 
pre  9ls^'ly,  exactly. 


•eo  ag'u  lat^s,  becomes  thick. 


Ascending  the  Mississippi  from  its  mouth,  one 
passes  "by  four  great  tributaries— the  Bed,  Arkansas, 
Ohib,  and  Missouri;  the  Missouri,  in  its  turn,  re- 
ceives the  Platte  and  Yellowstone,  so  that  we  can 
reckon  altogether  six  branches  which  exceed  seven 
hundred  miles  in  length.  This  is  a  larger  number 
than  the  Asiatic  or  African  rivers  possess. 

The  Niger  has  no  large  branches  at  all;  the  Nile 
has  only  three  or  four,  which  are  almost  dry  during 
half  of  the  year;  the  Yang-tse-kiang  has  no  single 
branch  as  long  as  the  Ohio;  and  so  with  the  rest. 
In  South  America,  the  Parana  receives  the  Uraguay 
and  Paraguay,  each  as  large  as  the  Red  River.  So  far, 
the  comparison  is  favorable  to  the  Mississippi. 

Now  glance  at  a  map  of  the  Amazon.  There  are 
at  least  sixteen  tributaries  that  measure  more  than 


FIFTH    READER.  397 

seven  hundred  miles  in  length;  the  most  of  them 
exceed  a  thousand.  Some  of  these  great  branches 
receive  streams  almost  as  large  as  themselves,  and 
the  lesser  rivers  that  flow  into  the  Amazon  would 
count  up  a  full  hundred  or  more.  King  of  rivers, 
the  Amazon  bears  a  princely  train. 

In  studying  the  great  valley  of  the  Amazon,  our 
first  step  will  be  to  distinguish  between  the  main- 
land and  the  flood-plain;  we  must  separate  these 
two  in  our  minds  as  sharply  as  they  are  defined 
in  nature.  The  main-land  is  always  beyond  reach 
of  the  floods,  though  it  may  be  only  a  few  inches 
above  them;  it  has  a  foundation  of  older  rock,  which 
crops  out  in  many  places.  The  flood-plain,  on  the 
contrary,  has  clearly  been  formed  by  the  river  itself; 
its  islands  and  flats  are  built  up  of  mud  and  clay, 
with  an  occasional  sand  bank;  but  they  are  never 
stony,  and  only  isolated  points  are  a  few  inches 
above  the  highest  floods. 

Our  first  rambles  will  be  among  the  islands  and 
channels  of  the  varzeas,  or  flood-plains,  with  their 
swampy  forests,  and  great  stretches  of  meadow, 
and  half  submerged  plantations.  Any  one  who  is 
not  blind  must  feel  his  soul  moved  within  him  by 
the  marvelous  beauty  of  the  vegetation.  Xot  a  bit 
of  ground  is  seen;  straight  up  from  the  water  the 
forest  rises  like  a  wall— dense,  dark,  impenetrable,  a 
hundred  feet  of  leafy  splendor.  And  breaking  out 
every-where  from  among  the  heaped-up  masses  are 
the  palm-trees  by  thousands.  For  here  the  palms 
hold  court :  nowhere  else  on  the  broad  earth  is  their 
glory  unveiled  as  we  see  it.  If  palms,  standing 
alone,  are  esteemed  the  most  beautiful  of  trees, 
what  shall  we  say  when  their  numbers  are  counted, 


398  FIFTH    READER. 

not  by  scores,  nor  hundreds,  but  by  thousands,  and 
all  in  a  ground-work  of  such  forest  as  is  never  seen 
outside  of  the  tropics? 

The  scene  is  infinitely  varied:  sometimes  the 
palm-trees  are  hidden,  but  even  then  the  great 
rolling  mass  is  full  of  wonderful  changes,  from  the 
hundred  or  more  kinds  of  trees  that  compose  it; 
and  again  the  palms  hold  undivided  sway,  or  only 
shrubs  and  low  climbing  vines  soften  their  splen- 
dor. Down  by  the  water's  edge  the  flowering  con- 
volvuli  are  mingled  with  shield-like  leaves  of  the 
arborescent  arums,  and  mangroves  standing  aloft 
on  their  stilt-like  roots,  where  they  are  washed  by 
the  estuary  tides. 

The  Indian  pilot  points  out  numbers  of  rubber- 
trees,  and  we  learn  to  recognize  their  white  trunks, 
and  shining,  bright-green  foliage.  This  low  tide- 
region  is  one  of  the  most  important  rubber  dis- 
tricts, and  hundreds  of  natives  are  employed  in 
gathering  and  preparing  the  crude  gum.  Occasion- 
ally we  see  their  thatched  huts  along  the  shore, 
built  on  piles,  and  always  damp,  reeking,  dismal, 
suggestive  of  agues  and  rheumatism;  for  the  tide- 
lowlands,  glorious  as  they  are  from  the  river,  are 
sodden  marshes  within,  where  many  a  rubber  gath- 
erer has  found  disease  and  death. 

The  rubber-trees  are  scattered  through  marshy 
forests,  where  we  clamber  over  logs,  and  sink  into 
pools  of  mud,  and  leap  the  puddles;  where  the 
mosquitoes  are  blood-thirsty,  and  nature  is  damp 
and  dark  and  threatening;  where  the  silence  is  un- 
broken by  beast  and  bird — a  silence  that  can  be 
felt. 

In   the    early    morning,    men    and    women    come 


FIFTH    READER.  399 

with  baskets  of  clay  cups  on  their  backs,  and  little 
hatchets  to  gash  the  trees.  Where  the  white  milk 
drips  down  from  the  gash  they  stick  their  cups  on 
the  trunk  with  daubs  of  clay,  molded  so  as  to 
catch  the  whole  flow.  If  the  tree  is  a  large  one, 
four  or  five  gashes  may  be  cut  in  a  circle  around 
the  trunk. 

On  the  next  day  other  gashes  are  made  a  little 
below  these,  and  so  on  until  the  rows  reach  the 
ground.  By  eleven  o'clock  the  flow  of  milk  has 
ceased,  and  the  natives  come  to  collect  the  contents 
of  the  cups  in  calabash  jugs.  A  gill  or  so  is  the 
utmost  yield  from  each  tree,  and  a  single  gatherer 
may  attend  to  a  hundred  and  twenty  trees  or  more, 
wading  always  through  these  dark  marshes,  and 
paying  dearly  for  his  profit  in  fever  and  weakness. 

A  day's  gathering  will  be  a  calabash  of  white 
liquid,  in  appearance  precisely  like  milk.  If  left 
in  this  condition  it  coagulates  after  a  while,  and 
forms  an  inferior  whitish  gum.  To  make  the  black 
rubber  of  commerce  the  milk  must  go  through  a 
peculiar  process  of  manufacture.  Over  a  smolder- 
ing fire,  fed  with  the  hard  nuts  of  the  tucumaN 
palm,  is  placed  a  kind  of  clay  chimney;  like  a 
wide-mouthed,  bottomless  jug;  through  this  chim- 
ney the  thick  smoke  pours  in  a  constant  stream. 
Now  the  rubber  gatherer  takes  his  mold  — in  this 
case  a  wooden  one,  like  a  round- bladed  paddle— 
washes  it  with  the  milk,  and  holds  it  over  the 
smoke  until  the  liquid  coagulates. 

Then  another  coat  is  added— only  now,  as  the 
wood  is  heated,  the  milk  coagulates  faster.  It  may 
take  the  gatherings  of  two  or  three  days  to  cover 
the  mold  thickly  enough.  Then  the  rubber  is 


4OO  FIFTH    READER. 

still  dull  white,  but  in  a  short  time  it  turns  brown, 
and  finally  almost  black,  as  it  is  sent  to  the  mar- 
ket. The  mass  is  cut  from  the  paddle  and  sold  to 
traders  in  the  village.  Bottles  are  sometimes  made 
by  molding  the  rubber  over  a  clay  ball,  which  is 
then  broken  up  and  removed. 

During  the  wet  months,  from  February  until 
June  or  July,  this  ground  is  under  water,  and  the 
huts  of  the  natives  are  wholly  deserted.  The  floods 
would  not  entirely  interrupt  the  gathering,  were 
it  not  that  the  gum  is  then  weak,  and  of  com- 
paratively little  value.  Besides,  the  trees  need  this 
period  of  rest  to  make  up  for  the  constant  sum- 
mer drain. 

Rubber  is  almost  the  only  product  of  these  low- 
lands. The  whole  region  is  simply  an  endless  suc- 
cession of  channels,  small  lakes,  and  swamps  covered 
with  forests,  beautiful  beyond  thought  from  with- 
out, a  dismal  wilderness  within. 

HERBERT  H.  SMITH. 

Note.— The  tucuma  palm  is  from  thirty  to  forty  feet  high,  and 
its  stem  is  encircled  -with  narrow  rings  of  black  spines  arranged 
•with  beautiful  regularity.  Its  fruit  is  about  an  inch  long,  and 
almost  globular  in  shape. 

Language.  —  Nouns  or  pronouns  used  to  complete  the  meaning 
of  a  verb  or  participle,  or  the  relation  indicated  by  a  preposition, 
are  said  to  be  in  the  objective  case;  as,  "In  a  few  days'  time  after 
leaving  the  mouth  of  the  Arkansas  River,  we  saw  New  Orleans." 

The  noun  New  Orleans  completes  the  meaning  of  what  word  ?  — 
mouth  completes  the  meaning  of  what  word?— time  and  river  com- 
plete the  relations  indicated  by  what  words? 

Select  or  compose  a  sentence  illustrating  the  different  uses  of 
the  objective  case. 

Composition.  — Select  six  parts  suitable  for  the  treatment  of  the 
subject— "A  Visit  to  the  Amazon,"  using  the  narrative  order, 
and  introducing  the  description  of  such  scenes  or  objects  of 
interest  as  will  make  the  composition  attractive,  as  well  as 
instructive. 


FIFTH     READER.  4O1 


90.— ANECDOTE      OF      SIR      MATTHEW     HALE. 


in  Iq'ui  ty  (in  ik'wi  ty),  wrong; 
gross  injustice. 


e^§  (gm'eg),  gold  coins  of 
England,  valued  at  about  $5  emJi. 
at  tSst",  affirm;  prove. 
dis  gt^lg^d",  concealed. 

'  dor,  fairness;  sincerity. 


plaint'  iff,  one  who  begins  an  ac- 
tion to  obtain  a  remedy  for  an  in- 
jury. 

prlv'i  leg^,  advantage. 


ad  du£^d',  offered. 


•eoun'sel  or§, 

ne  fa'ri     tis  wicked. 


A  gentleman,  who  possessed  an  estate  in  the 
eastern  part  of  England,  had  two  sons.  The  elder, 
"being  of  a  rambling  disposition,  went  abroad.  After 
several  years  his  father  died ;  when  the  younger 
son,  destroying  the  will  that  had  been  made  in  his 
elder  brother's  favor,  seized  upon  the  estate.  He 
gave  out  that  his  elder  brother  was  dead,  and 
bribed  false  witnesses  to  attest  the  truth  of  this 
report. 

In  the  course  of  time  the  elder  brother  returned, 
but  being  in  destitute  circumstances,  found  it  diffi- 
cult to  establish  his  claims.  At  length  he  met  with 
a  lawyer  who  interested  himself  in  his  cause  so  far 
as  to  consult  the  first  judge  of  the  age,  Sir  Matthew 
Hale,  Lord  Chief- Justice,  in  regard  to  it.  The  judge 
satisfied  himself  as  to  the  justice  of  the  claims  of 
the  elder  brother,  and  then  promised  his  assistance. 

The  cause  was  tried  at  Chelmsford,  in  Essex.  On 
the  appointed  day,  Sir  Matthew  Hale  disguised  him- 
self in  the  clothes  of  an  honest  miller  whom  he  had 
met  on  his  way,  and,  thus  equipped,  entered  the 
county  hall  where  the  cause  was  to  be  tried.  Here 
he  found  out  the  plaintiff,  and,  entering  into  con- 
versation with  him,  inquired  what  were  his  pros- 


402  FIFTH    READER. 

pects;  to  which,  the  plaintiff  replied,  "My  cause  is 
in  a  very  precarious  situation,  and  if  I  lose  it  I  am 
ruined  for  life." 

"  Well,  honest  friend,"  replied  the  pretended 
miller,  "will  you  take  my  advice?  Every  English- 
man has  the  right  and  privilege  to  take  exception 
to  any  one  juryman  through  the  whole  twelve ; 
now,  do  you  insist  upon  your  privilege,  without 
giving  a  reason  why,  and,  if  possible,  get  me  chosen 
in  place  of  some  one  whom  you  shall  challenge,  and 
I  will  do  you  all  the  service  in  my  power." 

The  plaintiff  shook  the  pretended  miller  by  the 
hand,  and  promised  to  follow  his  advice;  and  so, 
when  the  clerk  called  over  the  names  of  the  jury- 
men, he  objected  to  one  of  them.  The  judge  on  the 
bench  was  much  offended  at  this  liberty.  "  What  do 
you  mean,"  he  asked,  "by  taking  exception  to  that 
gentleman  ?  " 

"I  mean,  my  lord,"  said  the  plaintiff,  "to  assert 
my  privilege  as  an  Englishman,  without  giving  a 
reason  why." 

The  judge  had  been  highly  bribed,  and  in  order 
to  conceal  it  by  a  show  of  candor,  and  having  con- 
fidence in  the  superiority  of  his  party,  he  said: 
"Well,  sir,  whom  do  you  wish  to  have  in  place  of 
him  you  have  challenged?" 

After  a  short  time  spent  in  looking  round  upon 
the  audience,  "My  lord,"  said  the  plaintiff,  "I  will 
choose  yonder  miller,  if  you  please."  Accordingly 
the  supposed  miller  was  directed  to  take  his  place 
on  the  jury. 

As  soon  as  the  clerk  of  the  court  had  adminis- 
tered the  usual  oath  to  all,  a  little  dexterous  fellow 
came  into  the  apartment  and  slipped  ten  golden 


FIFTH    READER.  4O3 

guineas  into  the  hand  of  every  one  of  the  jurymen 
except  the  miller,  to  whom  he  gave  "but  five. 

"How  much  have  you  obtained?"  whispered  the 
miller  to  his  next  neighbor. 

"Ten  pieces,"  said  the  latter. 

The  miller  said  nothing  further  at  that  time. 
The  cause  was  opened  by  the  plaintiff's  counsel,  and 
all  the  scraps  of  evidence  that  could  be  adduced  in 
his  favor  were  brought  forward. 

The  younger  brother  was  provided  with  a  great 
number  of  witnesses  and  pleaders,  all  plentifully 
bribed  like  the  judge.  The  witnesses  deposed  that 
they  were  in  the  same  country  where  the  brother 
died,  and  had  seen  the  burial  of  his  mortal  re- 
mains. The  counselors  pleaded  upon  this  accumu- 
lated evidence,  and  every  thing  went  with  a  full 
tide  in  favor  of  the  younger  brother.  The  judge 
summed  up  the  evidence  with  great  gravity  and 
deliberation.  "And  now,  gentlemen  of  the  jury," 
said  he,  "lay  your  heads  together,  and  bring  in 
your  verdict  as  you  shall  deem  just." 

They  waited  but  a  few  minutes;  and  then  sup- 
posing that  all  were  determined  in  favor  of  the 
younger  brother,  the  judge  said,  "Gentlemen,  are 
you  all  agreed?  and  who  shall  speak  for  you?" 

"  We  are,  I  believe,  all  agreed,"  replied  one,  "  our 
foreman  shall  speak  for  us." 

"Hold,  my  lord,"  replied  the  miller,  "we  are  not 
all  agreed ! " 

"Why,"  said  the  judge,  in  a  very  surly  tone, 
"what's  the  matter  with  you?  What  reasons  have 
you  for  disagreeing?" 

"I  have  several  reasons,  my  lord,"  replied  the 
miller.  "The  first  is,  they  have  given  to  all  these 


4O4  FIFTH     READER. 

gentlemen  of  the  jury  ten  broad  pieces  of  gold,  and 
to  me  but  five,  which,  you  know,  is  not  fair.  Be- 
sides, I  have  many  objections  to  make  to  the  false 
reasonings  of  the  pleaders,  and  the  contradictory 
evidence  of  the  witnesses." 

Upon  this,  the  miller  began  a  discourse,  which 
discovered  such  penetration  of  judgment,  such  a 
knowledge  of  law,  and  was  expressed  with  such 
manly  and  energetic  eloquence,  that  it  astonished 
the  judge  and  the  whole  court. 

As  the  speaker  was  going  on  with  his  powerful 
demonstrations,  the  judge,  in  great  surprise,  stopped 
him. 

"Where  did  you  come  from,  and  who  are  you?" 

"I  came  from  Westminster  Hall,"N  replied  the 
miller,  "my  name  is  Matthew  Hale,  I  am  Lord 
Chief- Justice  of  the  King's  Bench.  I  have  observed 
the  iniquity  of  your  proceedings  this  day;  therefore 
come  down  from  a  seat  which  you  are  nowise 
worthy  to  hold.  You  are  one  of  the  corrupt  par- 
ties in  this  nefarious  business.  I  will  come  up  this 
moment  and  try  the  cause  over  again." 

Accordingly,  Sir  Matthew  went  up,  with  his 
miller's  dress  and  hat  on,  began  the  trial  anew, 
and  subjected  the  testimony  to  the  most  searching 
scrutiny.  He  made  the  elder  brother's  title  to  the 
estate  clear  and  manifest  from  the  contradictory 
evidence  of  the  witnesses,  and  the  false  reasoning 
of  the  pleaders ;  unraveled  all  the  sophistry  of  the 
latter  to  the  very  bottom,  and  gained  a  complete 
victory  in  favor  of  truth  and  justice. 

Notes.  — For  biographical  sketch  of  Sir  Matthew  Hale,  see  p.  298. 
Westminster    Hall,    London,    was    the    "building    in    which    the 
"Court  of  the  King's  Bench"  held  its  meetings. 


FIFTH  HEADER. 


Language.  —  In  expressing  thoughts,  a,  verb  with  its  subject 
will  sometimes  form  only  an  incomplete  sentence,  and  it  be- 
comes necessary  (1)  to  use  an  objective  case,  (2)  an  adjective,  or  (3) 
a  second  nominative  case,  in  order  to  make  a  complete  sentence. 

Examples. — (1.)  "It  astonished  the  judge."  (2.)  ""We  are  happy." 
(3.)  "My  name  is  Matthew  Hale." 

In  the  first  example,  astonished  is  called  a  transitive  verb,  be- 
cause it  expresses  an  action  that  "goes  over"  (Latin,  transit)  and 
must  have  an  object. 

Are  and  is  (2  and  3)  are  forms  of  the  verb  "to  be,"  and  simply 
"tie"  words  together.  Any  form  of  "to  be"  is  therefore  called 
a  copula  (tie). 


£/._THE     AMERICAN     FLAG. 


,  ruin;  destruction. 
,  heavenly. 
,  swelled  out. 


$e  ISs'tial  (lest'yal),  heavenly. 
bal'dri-e,  girdle. 
pal\,  Nock  cover. 

When  Freedom  from  her  mountain  height, 

Unfurled  her  standard  to  the  air, 
She  tore  the  azure  robe  of  night, 

And  set  the  stars  of  glory  there; 
She  mingled  with  its  gorgeous  dyes 
The  milky  baldric  of  the  skies, 
And  striped  its  pure,  celestial  white 
With  streakings  of  the  morning  light; 
Then.,  from  his  mansion  in  the  sun, 
She  call'd  her  eagle-bearer  down, 
And  gave  into  his  mighty  hand 
The  symbol  of  her  chosen  land. 

Majestic  monarch  of  the  cloud, 

Who  rear'st  aloft  thy  regal  form, 
To  hear  the  tempest-trumpings  loud, 
And  see  the  lightning  lances  driven, 

When  strive  the  warriors  of  the  storm, 
And  rolls  the  thunder  drum  of  heaven— 
Child  of  the  sun  1  to  thee  'tis  given 


406  FIFTH    READER. 

To  guard  the  banner  of  the  free, 
To  hover  in  the  sulphur  smoke, 
To  ward  away  the  battle-stroke, 

And  bid  its  blendings  shine  afar, 
Like  rainbows  on  the  cloud  of  war, 
The  harbingers  of  victory! 

Flag  of  the  brave !  thy  folds  shall  fly, 
The  sign  of  hope  and  triumph,  high! 
When  speaks  the  signal  trumpet  tone, 
And  the  long  line  comes  gleaming  on, 
Ere  yet  the  life-blood,  warm  and  wet, 
Has  dimmed  the  glistening  bayonet, 
Each  soldier's  eye  shall  brightly  turn 
To  where  thy  sky-born  glories  burn, 
And,  as  his  springing  steps  advance, 
Catch  war  and  vengeance  from  the  glanca 

And  when  the  cannon-mouthings  loud 
Heave  in  wild  wreaths  the  battle-shroud, 
And  gory  sabers  rise  and  fall 
Like  shoots  of  flame  on  midnight's  pall, 
Then  shall  thy  meteor  glances  glow, 

And  cowering  foes  shall  shrink  beneatt 
Each  gallant  arm  that   strikes  below 

That  lovely  messenger  of  death. 

Flag  of  the  seas !  on  ocean  wave 
Thy  stars  shall  glitter  o'er  the  brave; 
When  death,  careering  on  the  gale, 
Sweeps  darkly  round  the  bellied  sail, 
And  frighted  waves  rush  madly  back 
Before  the  broadside's  reeling  rack, 


FIFTH    READER.  4O7 

Each,  dying  wanderer  of  the  sea 
Shall  look  at  once  to  heaven  and  thee, 
And  smile  to  see  thy  splendors  fly 
In  triumph  o'er  his  closing  eye. 

Flag  of  the  free  heart's  hope  and  home, 

By  angel  hands  to  valor  given, 
Thy  stars  have  lit  the  welkin  dome, 

And  all  thy  hues  were  born  in  heaven. 
Forever  float  that  standard  sheet! 

Where  breathes  the  foe  but  falls  before  us, 
With  Freedom's  soil  beneath  our  feet, 

And  Freedom's  banner  streaming  o'er  us? 

JOSEPH  RODMAN  DRAKE. 

Biography. —Joseph  Eodman  Drake  (1795-1820)  was  a  native  of 
New  York,  and  began  his  career  as  a  poet  at  seven  years  of  age. 
He  was  associated  for  a  time  with  the  poet  Halleck  (author  of 
"Marco  Bozzaris");  and  in  1819,  they  together  wrote  the  "Croaker 
Papers,"  which  gave  them  a  great  reputation. 

Drake's  longest  poem  is  "The  Culprit  Fay";  his  most  popular 
poem,  "The  American  Elag." 

Elocution.  —  With  what  tone  of  voice  should  this  lesson  "be  read? 
Point  out  the  emphatic  words  in  the  first  stanza.     What  inflec- 
tions are  used  in  the  last  stanza? 

Language. — What  figures  of  rhetoric  are  used  in  stanzas  two 
and  three  ? 

Standard,  flag,  banner,  are  what  kind  of  words? 

Words  and  phrases  are  sometimes  used  independently ;  as, 
"Majestic  monarch  of  the  cloud!"  "Mr.  Speaker."  "John."  Mon- 
arch, speaker,  John,  are  examples  of  what  is  called  independent  case. 

All  verbs  not  requiring  an  object  to  complete  their  meaning 
are  called  intransitive;  as,  We  all  laughed.  They  have  gone  away. 

Point  out  an  example  of  a  transitive  verb,  an  intransitive  verb, 
and  a  copula  in  the  lesson. 

Composition— Select  parts  for  an  analysis  of  the  subject— "A 
Rainy  Day." 

Suggestion. — Parts  of  a  narrative  maybe  treated  in  letter  form, 
particular  attention  being  devoted  to  the  use  of  punctuation 
marks  and  capital  letters, 


408 


FIFTH    READER 


92.  -SILK-WORMS. 


•eo  -ec>on',  case  made  by  the  silk- 
worm to  hold  its  larva 

d^r^s'a  lid§,  forms  into  which 
the  worms  pass  before  becoming 
perfect  insects. 

e  j&et'ing,  throwing  out. 

ex  pand'ed,  spread  out. 

•eo'ma,  deep  sleep;  lethargy. 


,  weights,  each  of  one  ounce 
and  a  third. 

jiis  (nok'shus),  injurious; 
hurtful. 

de"ft,  apt;  dextrous, 
•e6r  re  spond§',  agrees. 
ar  o  mat' i-e,  fragrant. 
dl  mln'u  tlv^,  very  small. 


In  endeavoring  to  give  some  account  of  the 
manufacture  of  silk,  the  most  important  branch  of 
Chinese  industry,  the  first  point  to  be  noticed  is  the 
mode  in  which  the  silk-worms  are  reared.  Those 
who  are  engaged  in  this  work  select  a  certain  num- 
ber of  male  and  female  cocoons.  They  have  no 
difficulty  in  distinguishing  the  sex,  as  the  cocoon 
which  contains  the  male  is  strong,  very  pointed  at 
each  end,  and  smaller  than  that  which  contains  the 
female,  which  is  thick,  round,  and  soft. 

At  the  end  of  a  period  of  fifteen  or  twenty  days, 
the  moths  come  out  of  the  cocoons.  They  free 
themselves  by  first  ejecting  a  fluid  which  dissolves 
a  portion  of  the  cocoon.  All  moths,  the  wings  of 
which  are  expanded  at  the  time  of  their  birth,  are 
regarded  as  useful,  whereas  those  which  have  crum- 
pled wings,  no  eyebrows,  and  are  without  down,  are 
considered  useless,  and  at  once  destroyed. 

After  a  day,  the  male  moths  are  removed,  and  the 
females,  each  having  been  placed  on  a  sheet  of  coarse 
paper,  begin  to  lay  their  eggs.  In  the  silk  districts 
of  the  north,  owing,  I  suppose,  to  the  severity  of  the 
climate,  pieces  of  cloth  are  used  instead  of  sheets  of 
paper.  The  number  of  eggs  which  one  moth  lays,  is 


FIFTH    READER.  4O9 

generally  five  hundred,  and  the  period  required  for 
her  to  perform  so  great  a  labor,  is,  I  believe,  about 
seventy-four  hours.  The  females  often  die  almost 
immediately  after  they  have  laid  their  eggs,  and  the 
males  do  not  long  survive  them. 

The  egg  of  the  silk- worm,  which  is  of  a  whitish, 
or  pale  ash  color,  is  not  larger  than  a  grain  of  mus- 
tard seed.  When  eighteen  days  old  the  eggs  are 
carefully  washed  with  spring  water.  The  sheet  of 
coarse  paper  or  piece  of  cloth  on  which  they  were 
laid,  and  to  which  they  adhere,  is  very  gently  drawn 
through  spring  water  contained  in  a  wooden  or 
earthenware  bowl.  During  the  autumnal  months  the 
eggs  are  carefully  kept  in  a  cool  chamber,  the  sheets 
of  paper  or  pieces  of  cloth  being  suspended  back 
to  back  from  bamboo  rods  placed  in  a  horizontal 
position. 

In  the  tenth  month  of  the  Chinese  year,  which 
corresponds  with  our  December,  the  sheets  are  rolled 
up,  and  then  deposited  in  a  room  which  is  well 
swept,  and  free  from  all  noxious  influences.  On  the 
third  day  of  the  twelfth  month  the  eggs  are  again 
washed,  and  then  exposed  to  the  air  to  dry. 

In  the  spring  of  the  year,  the  eggs  being  now 
ready  to  bring  forth,  the  sheets  are  placed  on  mats, 
and  each  mat  placed  on  a  bamboo  shelf,  in  a  well- 
swept  and  well-warmed  chamber  containing  a  series 
of  shelves  arranged  along  the  walls.  The  shelves 
are  almost  invariably  made  of  bamboo,  the  wood 
of  which  emits  no  fragrance,  aromatic  wood  being 
especially  avoided  as  unsuitable  for  the  purpose. 

At  the  time  of  their  birth  the  worms  are  black, 
and  so  small  as  scarcely  to  exceed  a  hair  in  breadth. 
Owing  to  their  diminutive  size,  those  in  charge  of 


410  FltfTH    HEADER. 

them  cut  the  leaves  of  the  mulberry-tree,  on  which 
they  are  fed,  into  very  small  pieces.  This  is  done 
with  very  sharp  knives,  so  that  the  leaves  may  not 
he  bruised,  and  consequently  retain  as  much  sap  as 
possible. 

When  the  worms  are  quite  young,  they  are  fed 
not  less  than  forty-eight  times  in  twenty-four 
hours.  In  course  of  time  their  meals  are  reduced 
to  thirty  in  twenty-four  hours;  and  when  they 
have  attained  to  their  full  growth,  they  get  only 
three  or  four  in  the  day.  Occasionally— that  is,  once 
or  twice  during  the  first  month— the  worms  are  fed 
with  mulberry  leaves  well  mixed  with  the  flour  of 
green  pease,N  that  of  black  beans,  and  that  of  rice. 
This  mixture  is  supposed  to  be  cooling  and  cleans- 
ing to  the  worms,  and  to  tend  to  the  production 
of  strong  and  glossy  silk. 

Like  all  other  creatures,  these  insects  have  their 
seasons  of  rest,  and  to  these  seasons  the  Chinese 
give  distinguishing  names.  The  first  sleep,  which 
takes  place  on  the  fourth  or  fifth  day  after  birth, 
is  termed  the  "hair  sleep,"  and  lasts  but  one  day. 
The  second  sleep  takes  place  on  the  eighth  or  ninth 
day,  and  the  third,  on  the  fourteenth ;  the  fourth  and 
last  sleep,  which  takes  place  on  or  about  the  twenty- 
second  day,  is  styled,  in  consequence  of  its  long 
duration,  the  "  great  sleep."  On  the  near  approach 
of  each  period  the  worm  loses  its  appetite.  It  erects 
the  upper  part  of  its  body,  and  sleeps  in  this  posi- 
tion. 

During  each  period  of  sleep  it  casts  its  skin, 
continuing  in  a  state  of  repose  until  the  new  skin 
is  fully  matured.  It  relieves  itself  of  the  old  skin 
by  wriggling  out  at  that  part  of  it  which  covers 


FIFTH    fcEADEfc.  411 

the  head,  and  which  is  broken.  Sometimes  the 
worm  dies  in  consequence  of  its  inability  to  free 
the  end  of  its  body  from  the  old  skin.  The  skin 
being  shed,  the  worm  grows  very  quickly  in  size 
and  strength. 

Between  the  successive  periods  of  rest,  there 
are  generally  intervals  of  three  or  four  days,  dur- 
ing which  these  little  creatures  eat  most  vora- 
ciously. During  the  four  or  five  days  which  im- 
mediately follow  the  "great  sleep,"  they  have  a 
greater  appetite  for  food  than  they  have  hitherto 
manifested.  When  they  have  reached  the  age  of 
thirty-two  days  they  are  full  grown,  each  being 
about  two  inches  in  length,  and  almost  as  thick  as 
a  man's  little  finger. 

When  the  worms  are  gradually  increasing  in  size 
they  are  separated  periodically,  into  several  lots  so 
as  to  give  them  more  room.  Now  that  it  is  full 
grown,  the  worm,  which  before  was  of  a  whitish 
hue,  assumes  a  tint  resembling  that  of  amber.  At 
this  period  they  cease  to  partake  of  food,  and  begin 
to  spin  the  silk  from  their  mouths  on  the  frames 
or  shelves  on  which  they  have  been  placed. 

In  spinning,  they  move  the  head  first  to  one 
side  and  then  to  the  other,  and  continue  the  opera- 
tion until  the  whole  body  has  been  enveloped  in  a 
cocoon.  The  time  which  a  worm  requires  to  accom- 
plish this  labor  is,  I  believe,  from  three  to  five 
days;  and  as  soon  as  it  has  inclosed  itself  in  the 
cocoon,  it  falls  into  a  state  of  coma,  casts  its  skin, 
and  eventually  becomes  a  chrysalis. 

The  attendants  then  place  the  bamboo  shelves 
on  which  the  cocoons  lie,  near  a  slow  fire  of 
charcoal  or  wood,  in  order  that  the  chrysalids  may 


FIFTH    HEADER. 


be  destroyed  by  its  lieat,  otherwise  these  would,  in 
three  weeks  more,  break  from  their  prison  and' 
appear  in  the  imago  form  —  the  last  perfected  state 
of  insect  life. 

The  chrysalids  having  been  destroyed,  the  co- 
coons are  removed  from  the  frames  and  placed  in 
baskets.  Women  and  girls,  carefully  selected  for  the 
task,  now  unwind  the  cocoons—  a  process  which 
they  make  easy  by  placing  them  in  boiling  water. 
These  workers  must  be  deft  of  hand,  and  expert  in 
the  business,  fully  capable  of  making  the  threads 
of  equal  size,  and  of  producing  them  bright,  clear, 
and  glossy. 

When  the  cocoons  are  put  into  boiling  water, 
the  outer  layer,  which  is  called  the  silk  rind  or 
shell,  is  first  unwound.  Another  set  of  women  or 
girls,  who  are  equally  expert,  are  then  engaged  to 
unwind  the  inner  layers  of  the  cocoon,  called  the 
silk  pulp  or  flesh.  In  the  course  of  a  day  one 
"woman  can  unwind  four  taels  of  silk  in  weight. 
The  most  expert  workers  can  not,  I  believe,  turn  off 
more  than  five  or  six  taels'  weight.  ' 

Industrious  workers,  who  are  masters  of  the 
business,  will  finish  one  season,  or  silk  harvest,  in 
the  course  of  eighteen  or  nineteen  days.  Ordinary 
or  second-rate  workers  will  require  twenty-four  or 
twenty-five  days  to  get  through  the  same  amount 
of  work.  From  long,  white,  and  shining  cocoons  a 
small  and  good  thread  of  silk  is  obtained;  from 
those  which  are  large,  dull  in  color,  and  not  firm 
of  texture,  a  coarse  thread  is  produced.  This  coarse 
thread  is  used  in  making  the  stuffs  with  which 
dresses  are  lined.  The  chrysalids  are  eaten  by  the 
workers  as  food  of  an  excellent  kind. 


FIFTH    READER.  413 


Biography.  — John  Henry  Gray,  the  author  of  this  piece,  was 
for  many  years  a  resident  of  China.  His  work  entitled  "China" 
is  an  accurate  description  of  the  customs  and  industries  of  the 
"Celestial  Empire." 

Note.—  Pease  is  one  of  the  plural  forms  of  pea,  and  is  used 
when  no  definite  number  is  mentioned.  We  say  two  peas,  three 
peas,  etc.,  when  the  definite  number  is  given. 

Language.  — Either  the  subject  or  predicate  of  a  simple  sen- 
tence may  bo  compounded;  as  ""Women  and  girls  now  unwind 
the  cocoons."  Women  and  girls  together  forming  a  compound  sub- 
ject. If  we  add  to  the  sentence  just  given  and  make  them  into 
thread,  the  predicate  will  also  be  compound. 

Select  from  the  lesson  two  examples  of  simple,  compound,  and 
complex  sentences. 

Compose  a  simple  sentence  containing  a  compound  subject  and  a 
compound  predicate. 

Nouns  and  pronouns  are  of  the  first  person  if  they  represent 
the  speaker ;  of  the  second  person,  if  they  represent  a  person  or 
thing  spoken  to  ;  and  of  the  third  person,  if  they  represent  a 
person  or  thing  spoken  of. 


93.  —  L  AT  OUR     D'AUVERGNE. 


to  pog'ra  phy,  exact  features; 

appearance. 
post  pon^',  put  off. 
grSn'  a  d\er§',  «    company  of 

tall,  stout  soldiers. 
de  filV,  narrow  passage. 


per  p£t'  u  a'  ted,  caused  to  last; 

preserved. 
an' rials.,  records. 
mSr'it  ed,  deserved. 
as  sa^lt',  attack. 
dis  tln-e'tion,  renown. 

Heroic  deeds  of  bravery  have  been  handed  down 
to  us  by  writers  of  all  ages  and  countries,  and 
nearly  every  nation  has  thus  perpetuated  the  name 
and  fame  of  one  or  more  fearless  souls,  who,  by 
some  marvelous  act  of  courage  and  fortitude,  be- 
came famous  in  the  annals  of  history. 

The  name  of  Latour  d'Auvergne,  a  member  of 
a  regiment  of  grenadiers  in  the  army  of  Napoleon, 
is  one  which  is  regarded  by  the  French  nation 


414  FIFTH    READER. 

with,  pride,  and  which  figures  prominently  in  the 
history  of  its  armies. 

For  many  years  after  his  death,  his  name  was 
regularly  called,  when  the  companies  of  his  old 
regiment  paraded  for  their  daily  roll-call.N 

Then  it  was  that  the  ranking  sergeant  stepped 
forward,  and,  saluting  the  commanding  officer,  said 
with  a  loud  voice,  "Dead  on  the  field  of  Honor!" 

To  a  stranger,  this  daily  incident  could  not  but 
excite  wonder,  but  to  the  soldiers  of  the  army,  and 
all  others  having  knowledge  of  the  circumstances 
which  occasioned  the  strange  proceeding,  the  words, 
"Dead  on  the  field  of  Honor!"  had  a  thrilling  sig- 
nificance, and  caused  a  momentary  thought  of  ven- 
eration to  flow  back  to  the  brave  soldier  who  was 
thus  proudly  honored. 

This  honor  was,  however,  well  merited.  Latour 
d'Auvergne  entered  the  army,  for  which  he  was 
educated,  in  the  year  1T6T.  Serving  with  marked 
distinction,  he  was  frequently  named  for  promo- 
tion, but  uniformly  refused  all  such  honors,  being 
content  to  command  a  company  of  grenadiers, 
which  appeared  to  be  the  extent  of  his  ambition. 

At  one  period  in  his  career,  when  a  number  of 
companies  of  grenadiers  were  massed  in  one  body, 
he  was  placed  in  command  of  eight  thousand  men, 
although  he  retained  only  the  rank  of  captain. 
This  caused  him  to  be  known  as  the  "First  Grena- 
dier of  France." 

While  on  a  visit  to  friends  who  lived  in  the 
vicinity  of  a  future  field  of  action,  he  busied  him- 
self in  studying  the  topography  of  the  surrounding 
country,  with  a  view  of  making  good  use  of  the 
knowledge  thus  gained,  should  occasion  require. 


FIFTH    READER.  416 

He  had  scarcely  completed  Ms  observations, 
when,  to  his  amazement,  he  learned  that  a  part  of 
the  Austrian  army  was  rapidly  pushing  forward 
with  the  intention  of  possessing  a  mountain  pass, 
to  prevent  an  important  movement  the  French 
army  was  then  on  the  march  to  accomplish. 

Latour  d'Auvergne  knew  that  the  Austrians 
were  only  a  few  hours  distant,  and  that  they  would 
pass  the  point  at  which  he  was  staying.  He  did  not 
intend  to  "be  captured,  and  immediately  started  off 
for  the  pass.  He  knew  that  it  was  defended  "by  a 
small  garrison,  consisting  of  about  thirty  men,  who 
were  stationed  in  a  strong  tower  at  the  entrance 
of  the  pass,  and  his  object  was  to  give  these  men 
warning  of  their  danger. 

On  arriving  at  the  tower,  he  found  that  the 
garrison  had  fled  upon  hearing  of  the  advance  of 
the  Austrians,  and  that  they  had  left  behind  them 
thirty  muskets,  all  in  prime  order. 

Latour  d'Auvergne  was  made  furious  by  this 
discovery.  Hastily  searching  about  the  building,  he 
found  that  the  cowardly  soldiers  had  destroyed  a 
large  part  of  the  ammunition  before  leaving,  a  fact 
which  caused  him  a  moment  of  intense  anxiety, 
but  then,  with  a  countenance  indicating  fearless 
determination,  he  fastened  the  main  entrance,  and 
secured  it  with  such  heavy  articles  as  were  at 
hand. 

He  then  proceeded  coolly  to  load  all  the  muskets, 
and  place  them  with  an  ample  supply  of  ammuni- 
tion near  the  loop-holes  which  commanded  the 
pass,  and  through  which  the  enemy  must  march. 
Having  some  provisions  with  him,  he  ate  heartily, 
and  then  calmly  awaited  events.  He  had  actually 


416  FIFTH     READER. 

resolved  to  defend  the  tower  alone  against  the 
Austrians. 

The  pass  was  steep  and  narrow,  and  the  enemy 
could  advance  only  in  double  files,  which  would 
expose  them  to  a  direct  fire  from  the  tower.  Pa- 
tiently Latour  d'Auvergne  awaited  their  approach, 
"but  they  were  long  in  coming,  and  he  at  one  time 
concluded  that  the  expedition  had  been  aban- 
doned. 

About  midnight  the  practiced  ear  of  the  old 
soldier  caught  the  sound  of  approaching  troops. 
On  they  came,  nearer  and  nearer,  until  he  heard 
them  entering  the  narrow  pass.  He  immediately 
discharged  two  muskets  into  the  darkness  as  a 
warning  that  some  one  at  the  tower  knew  their 
intentions ;  then  he  heard  the  officers  giving  hasty 
commands,  and  the  troops  appeared  to  be  retiring 
from  the  defile. 

He  was  not  further  disturbed  until  morning. 
The  commander  of  the  Austrians,  assuming  that 
the  garrison  had  received  information  of  his  ap- 
proach, and  was  prepared  to  resist  him,  concluded 
he  could  not  capture  the  tower  by  surprise  as  he 
had  intended,  and  thought  it  wise  to  postpone  his 
attack  until  daylight. 

Early  in  the  morning  he  demanded  the  surren- 
der of  the  garrison.  A  grenadier  stepped  forward 
to  answer  the  messenger,  and  said,  "  Say  to  your 
commanding  officer  that  this  garrison  will  defend 
this  pass  to  the  last  extremity." 

The  bearer  of  the  flag  of  truce  returned,  and, 
shortly  after,  a  piece  of  artillery N  was  wheeled  into 
the  pass.  In  order  to  get  a  correct  aim  on  the 
tower,  it  was  necessary  to  place  it  in  front,  and 


'As  the  troops  entered  the  pass,  the  firing  from  the  tower 
opened  again."     (See  page  417.) 


FIFTH    READER.  417 

directly  within  easy  musket  range.  No  sooner  had 
it,  been  put  in  position,  than  rapid  firing  from  the 
tower  opened  on  the  artillerymen,  and  was  con- 
tinued with  such  deadly  precision  that  the  cannon, 
was  hauled  off  after  two  or  three  discharges,  with 
a  loss  of  five  men. 

Finding  that  the  artillery  could  not  be  used 
effectively,  the  Austrian  commander  determined 
upon  an  assault.  As  the  troops  entered  the  pass, 
the  firing  from  the  tower  opened  again,  with  such 
vigor  and  accuracy  that  fifteen  men  fell,  killed  or 
disabled,  before  half  the  distance  was  reached. 

In  like  manner,  three  more  assaults  were  re- 
pulsed, and  ore  sunset  the  enemy  had  lost  forty- 
five  men  in  killed  and  wounded.  The  Austrian 
commander  noticed  that  the  firing  from  the  tower 
had  been  unusually  rapid  and  accurate,  and  what 
was  strange,  every  shot  appeared  to  come  from  one 
particular  point.  For  a  time  this  puzzled  him,  but 
he  finally  concluded  that  there  were  several  loop- 
holes near  together,  and  so  situated  in  the  tower 
as  to  bear  directly  on  the  defile. 

As  night  approached,  the  Austrian  commander 
again  demanded  the  surrender  of  the  garrison.  This 
time  he  received  a  favorable  reply.  The  garrison 
proposed  to  surrender  in  the  morning,  provided 
they  were  permitted  to  march  out  with  their  arms, 
and  proceed  to  the  French  army  without  interrup- 
tion. The  terms  were  agreed  to. 

Latour  d'Auvergne  had  passed  a  day  of  great 
anxiety.  He  began  the  fight  with  his  thirty  mus- 
kets, all  loaded  and  ready  for  use.  His  fire  had 
been  rapid  and  accurate,  for  he  was  one  of  those 
efficient  soldiers  who  seldom  waste  a  shot. 


418  FIFTH    READER. 

A  worthy  object  had  caused  him  to  bravely  de- 
fend the  tower,  and  that  was,  to  hold  the  position 
long  enough  to  enable  the  French  army  to  accom- 
plish its  maneuver.  This  completed,  he  knew  the 
pass  would  be  of  no  use  to  the  Austrians. 

At  sunrise  the  next  morning,  the  Austrian 
troops  were  ranged  in  line  on  both  sides  of  the 
pass,  leaving  a  space  between  them  for  the  garrison 
to  march  out.  The  massive  door  of  the  tower 
opened,  and  directly  the  brave  old  grenadier,  almost 
staggering  under  his  load  of  muskets,  marched  out, 
and  passed  along  between  the  lines  of  soldiers.  To 
the  intense  amazement  of  the  Austrians,  he  was 
alone. 

The  Austrian  commander,  in  surprise  and  aston- 
ishment, rode  up  to  him  and  inquired  why  it  was 
that  the  garrison  did  not  follow  him. 

"I  am  the  garrison,  colonel,"  said  the  grenadier, 
proudly. 

"  What ! "  exclaimed  the  colonel,  "  do  you  mean 
to  tell  me  that  you  alone  defended  the  tower 
against  my  forces?" 

"I  have  that  honor,  colonel,"  was  the  calm 
reply. 

"  How  came  you  to  make  such  a  bold  attempt, 
grenadier?"  inquired  the  colonel. 

"Because,  sir,  the  honor  of  France  was  in  peril," 
replied  the  noble  old  soldier. 

The  colonel  stood  for  a  moment  viewing  the 
soldier  with  evident  admiration.  Then  raising  his 
cap,  he  said  with  much  feeling,  "Grenadier,  I  salute 
you.  You  have  proved  yourself  the  bravest  of  the 
brave." 

The   officer  then    gave    orders    to    have    all    the 


FIFTH    READER.  419 

muskets  which.  Latour  d'Auvergne  could  not  carry, 
sent  with  him  into  the  French  camp,  and  then 
wrote  a  letter  to  the  French  commander,  relating 
the  circumstances.  When  Napoleon  learned  the  par- 
ticulars of  the  affair,  he  desired  to  promote  Latour 
d'Auvergne,  but  the  latter  preferred  to  remain  a 
grenadier. 

The  "brave  old  soldier  was  killed  at  the  battle 
of  Oberhausen,  in  June,  1800,  and  the  simple  and 
expressive  scene  at  the  daily  roll-call  of  his  regi- 
ment was  ordered  and  continued  by  the  great  and 
appreciative  Napoleon. 

Notes.  —  Roll-call  refers  to  the  practice  of  assembling  soldiers 
by  tapping  loudly  upon  a  drum,  and  then  calling  over  their 
names  to  find  out  -whether  or  not  all  are  present.  The  compli- 
ment to  d'Auvergne  consisted  in  keeping  his  name  on  the  roll 
of  the  grenadiers  after  his  death  and  having  him  accounted  for 
daily  as  one  whose  deeds  made  him  worthy  of  perpetual  remem- 
brance. 

A  piece  of  artillery  is  a  single  cannon,  mortar,  or  howitzer. 
A  battery  of  ten  pieces,  means  a  body  of  artillery  containing  ten 
pieces  of  ordnance  — cannons,  mortars,  or  howitzers. 

Language.  —  What  are  the  essential  parts  of  every  sentence? 
What  are  the  uses  of  adjectives  and  adverbs?  What  words  are 
employed  to  connect  sentences?  Why  are  personal  pronouns 
used  instead  of  proper  names? 


.  —  THE     DEAD     GRENADIER. 


de  fTant,  bold;  daring. 
ml'ter,  head-covering  of  a  bishop. 


dlg'ni  ty,  true  worth. 


On  the  right  of  the  battalion  a  grenadier  of  France, 

Struck  through  his  iron  harness  by  the  lightning  of  a  lance, 

His   breast    all   wet    with    British    blood,    his    brow  with    British 

breath, 
There  fell  defiant,  face  to  face  with  England  and  with  death. 


42O  FIFTH    READER. 

They    made    a    miter    of    his    heart— they    cleft    it    through    and 

through  — 

One  half  was  for  his  legion,  and  the  other  for  it  too ! 
The  colors  of  a  later  day  prophetic  fingers  shed, 
For  lips  were  blue  and   cheeks  were  white  and  the  fleur-de-lis N 

was  red ! 
And  the  bugles  blew,  and  the  legion  wheeled,   and  the  grenadier 

was  dead. 

And  then  the  old  commander  rode  slowly  down  the  ranks, 
And  thought  how  brief  the   journey   grew,  between  the  battered 

flanks ; 

And  the  shadows  in  the  moonlight  fell  strangely  into  line 
"Where  the  battle's  reddest  riot  pledged  the  richest  of  the  wine, 
And  the  camp   fires   flung   their   phantoms,— all  doing  what  they 

could 

To  close  the  flinty  columns  up  as  old  campaigners  would  I 
On  he  rode,  the  old  commander,  with  the  ensign  in  advance, 
And,  as  statued  bronzes  brighten  with  the  smoky  torch's  glance 
Flashed  a  light  in  all  their  faces,  like  the  flashing  of  a  lance ; 
Then,    with    brow    all    bare    and    solemn,     "For    the    King!"    he 

grandly  said, 

"Lower  the  colors  to  the  living— beat  the  ruffle  N  for  the  dead!" 
And  thrice  the  red  silk  flickered  low  its  flame  of  royal  fire, 
And    thrice    the    drums    moaned    out    aloud   the    mourner's   wild 

desire. 

Ay,  lower  again,  thou  crimson  cloud— again   ye  drums  lament  — 
'Tis  Rachel  N  in  the  wilderness  and  RamahN   in  the  tent ! 

«'  Close   up!     Bight  dress  I"  the   captain   said,  and   they   gathered 

under  the  moon, 
As    the    shadows    glide    together    when    the    sun   shines   down  at 

noon  — 

A  stranger  at  each  soldier's  right — ah,  war's  -wild  work  is  grim!  — 
And  so  to  the  last  of  the  broken  line,  and  Death  at  the  right  of 

him! 
And  there,  in  the   silence  deep  and  dead,  the  sergeant  called  the 

roll, 
And  the  name  went   wandering   down  the   lines   as   he  called  a 

passing  soul. 


FIFTH    READER.  421 

O,  then    that  a  friendly    mountain    that    summons    might    have 

heard, 

And  flung  across  the  desert  dumb  the  shadow  of  the  word, 
And  caught  the  name  that  all  forlorn  along  the  legion  ran, 
And  clasped  it  to  its  mighty  heart  and  sent  it  hack  to  man  I 

There  it  stood,  the  battered  legion,  while  the  sergeant  called  the 

roll, 
And  the  name  went  wandering  down  the  lines  as  he  called  for 

a  passing  soul. 

Hurra  for  the  dumb,  dead  lion  !     And  a  voice  for  the  grenadier 
Boiled  out  of  the  ranks  like  a  drum-beat,  and  sturdily  answered 

"HERE!" 

"He  stood,"  cried  the  sons  of  thunder,  and  their  hearts  ran  over 

the  brim, 

"He  stood  by  the  old  battalion,  and  we'll  always  stand  by  him! 
Ay,  call  for  the  grand  crusader,   and  we'll    answer  to  the  name." 
"And  what  will  ye  say?"  the  sergeant  said. 

"DEAD   ON    THE   FIELD   OF   FAME  I" 

And  dare  ye  call  that  dying?     The  dignity  sublime 

That  gains  a  furlough  from  the  grave,  and  then  reports  to  Time? 

Doth  earth  give  up  the  daisies  to  a  little  sun  and  rain, 

And  keep  at  their  roots  the  heroes  while  -weary  ages  wane? 

Sling  up  the  trumpet,   Israfeel  IN  Sweet  bugler  of  our  God, 
For  nothing  waits  thy  summons  beneath  this  broken  sod; 
They  march  abreast  with  the  ages  to  the  thunder  on  the  right, 
For  they  bade  the  world  "  Good-morning  1 "   when  the  world  had 

said  ' '  Good-night ! " 

BENJAMIN  F.  TAYLOR. 

Biography.  — For  biographical  sketch  of  Benjamin  Franklin 
Taylor,  see  page  204. 

Notes.  —  Fleur-de-lis  (flur-de-le'),  the  royal  insignia  or  badge 
of  France.  It  represents  a  lily,  or,  as  some  insist,  the  head  of  a 
javelin.. 

Beat  the  ruffle  means  beat  a  low,  vibrating  sound  on  a  drum, 
not  so  loud  as  a  roll-call. 

Ra'chel,  the  youngest  daughter  of  La' ban  and  wife  of  Jacob. 
She  was  the  mother  of  Joseph  and  Benjamin. 


422  FIFTH    READER. 

R&'mah  was   one  of  the  cities   of  Benjamin;    oy   metonymy 
it  here  means  the  soldiers  of  Bamah. 

Israfeel:  —  In  heaven  a  spirit  doth  dwell 

"Whose  heart-strings  are  a  lute;" 
None  sing  so  wildly  well 
As  the  angel  Israfel, 
And  the  giddy  stars  (so  legends  tell) 
Ceasing  their  hymns,  attend  the  spell 

Of  his  voice,  all  mute.  E.  A.  FOB. 


96.  —  SCENE     FROM     "KING    JOHN." 
,  thin  fluid   secreted  ly 


ar'ras,  curtain;  hangings  woven 

with  figures. 
s-er\i'  pl^§,  doubts. 


wan'  ton  nes^,  sport; 


camp  to  find  out  their  strength. 
prat^,  talk. 
•er&ft'y,  artful;  sly. 


ill;  evil. 


Scene—  Northampton.     A  Eoom  in  the  Castle. 

Enter  HUBEKT  and  Two  Attendants. 
Hub.    Heat  me  these   irons  hot;    and   look  thou 

stand 

Within  the  arras:   when  I  strike  my  foot 
Upon  the  bosom  of  the  ground,  rush  forth 
And  bind  the  boy  which  you  will  find  with  me 
Fast  to  the  chair:  be  heedful:   hence,  and  watch. 
First  Attend.    I  hope  your  warrant  will  bear  out 

the  deed. 

Hub.     Uncleanly  scruples!     Fear  not  you:    look 
to  't.— 

[Exeunt™  Attendants. 

Young  lad,  come  forth:  I  have  to  say  with  you. 

Enter  ARTHUR. 

Arth.    Good-morrow,  Hubert. 
Hub.  Good-morrow,  little  prince. 


FIFTH    READER.  423 

Arth.    As  little  prince  (having  so  great  a  title 
To  be  more  prince)  as  may  be.— You  are  sad. 

Hub.     Indeed,  I  have  been  merrier. 

Arth.  Mercy  on  me, 

Methinks,  nobody  should  be  sad  .but  I : 
Yet,  I  remember,  when  I  was  in  France, 
Young  gentlemen  would  be  as  sad  as  night, 
Only  for  wantonness.     By  my  Christendom, 
So  I  were  out  of  prison,  and  kept  sheep, 
I  should  be  as  merry  as  the  day  is  long; 
And  so  I  would  be  here,  but  that  I  doubt 
My  uncle  practices  more  harm  to  me: 
He  is  afraid  of  me,  and  I  of  him : 
Is  it  my  fault  that  I  was  Geoffrey's  son? 
No,  indeed,  'tis  not;  and  I  would  to  heaven 
I  were  your  son,  so  you  would  love  me,  Hubert. 

Hub.  (aside).    If  I  talk  to  him,  with  his  innocent 

prate 

He  will  awake  my  mercy,  which  lies  dead : 
Therefore  I  will  be  sudden,  and  dispatch. 

A.rth.    Are  you  sick,  Hubert?    you  look  pale  to- 
day: 

In  sooth,  I  would  you  were  a  little  sick; 
That  I  might  sit  all  night  and  watch  with  you. 
I  warrant  I  love  you  more  than  you  do  me. 

Hub.  (aside).    His  words  do  take  possession  of  my 

bosom.— 
Read  here,  young  Arthur.  [Showing  a  paper. 

(Aside.)    How  now,  foolish  rheum  1 
Turning  dispiteous N  torture  out  of  doorl 
I  must  be  brief;   lest  resolution  drop 
Out  of  mine  eyes  in  tender  womanish  tears. 
Can  you  not  read  it?  is  it  not  fair  writ?* 

jirth.    Too  fairly,  Hubert,  for  so  foul  effect: 


424  FIFTH    READER. 

Must  you  with  hot  irons  "burn  out  both  mine  eyes? 

Hub.     Young  boy,  I  must. 

Arth.  And  will  you? 

Hub.  And  I  will. 

A.rth.    Have  you  the  heart?    When  your  head  did 

but  ache, 

I  knit  my  handkerchief  about  your  brows, 
(The  best  I  had,  a  princess  wrought  it  me), 
And  I  did  never  ask  it  you  again; 
And  with  my  hand  at  midnight  held  your  head; 
And,  like  the  watchful  minutes  to  the  hour, 
Still  and  anon  cheered  up  the  heavy  time ; 
Saying    "What    lack   you?"    and,    "Where   lies  your 

grief?" 

Or,  "What  good  love  may  I  perform  for  you?" 
Many  a  poor  man's  son  would  have  lain  still, 
And  ne'er  have  spoke  a  loving  word  to  you ; 
But  you  at  your  sick  service  had  a  prince. 
Nay,  you  may  think  my  love  was  crafty  love, 
And  call  it  cunning;   do,  an  if  you  will: 
If  heaven  be  pleased  that  you  must  use  me  ill, 
Why,  then  you  must.— Will  you  put  out  mine  eyes? 
These  eyes  that  never  did,  nor  never  shall, 
So  much  as  frown  on  you? 

Hub.  I  have  sworn  to  do  it ; 

And  with  hot  irons  must  I  burn  them  out. 

Arth.    Ah,  none,  but   in  this  iron  age,  would  do 

it! 

The  iron  of  itself,  though  heat  red-hot, 
Approaching  near  these  eyes,  would  drink  my  tears, 
And  quench  his  fiery  indignation 
Even  in  the  matter  of  mine  innocence; 
Nay,  after  that,  consume  away  in  rust, 
But  for  containing  fire  to  harm  mine  eye, 


FIFTH    READER.  42S 

Are  you  more  stubborn-hard  than  hammered  iron? 
And  if  an  angel  should  have  come  to  me, 
And  told  me  Hubert  should  put  out  mine  eyes, 
I  would    not    have    believed    him.     No    tongue    but 

Hubert's— 

Hub.  Come  forth.  [Stamps. 

Re-enter  Attendants,  with  Cords,  Irons,  &c. 

Do  as  I  bid  you  do. 
Arth.    O  save  me,  Hubert,  save  me  !   my  eyes  are 

out 

Even  with  the  fierce  looks  of  these  bloody  men. 
Hub.  Give. me  the  iron,  I  say, .and  bind  him  here. 
Arth.  Alas,    what    need    you    be    so    boisterous- 
rough  ? 

I  will  not  struggle,  I  will  stand  stone-still. 
For  heaven's  sake,  Hubert,  let  me  not  be  bound ! 
Nay,  hear  me,  Hubert !  drive  these  men  away, 
And  I  will  sit  as  quiet  as  a  lamb; 
I  will  not  stir,  nor  wince,  nor  speak  a  word, 
Nor  look  upon  the  iron  angrily : 
Thrust  but  these  men  away,  and  I'll  forgive  you, 
Whatever  torment  you  do  put  me  to. 

Ht/b.  Go,  stand  within;   let  me  alone  with  him. 
First  Attend.    I  am  best  pleased  to   be  from  such 
a  deed.  [Exeunt  Attendants. 

A.rth.    Alas!   I  then  have  chidN  away  my  friend; 
He  hath  a  stern  look,  but  a  gentle  heart:  — 
Let  him  come  back,  that  his  compassion  may 
Give  life  to  yours. 

Hub.  Come,  boy,  prepare  yourself. 

Arth.    Is  there  no  remedy? 

Hub.  None,  but  to  lose  your  eyes. 

A.rth.   O  heaven !   that  there  were  but  a  mote  in 
yours, 


426  FIFTH    READER. 

A  grain,  a  dust,  a  gnat,  a  wandering  hair, 

Any  annoyance  in  that  precious  sense ! 

Then,    feeling    what    small    things    are    boisterous 

there, 
Your  vile  intent  must  needs  seem  horrible. 

Hub.   Is   this   your    promise?     Go   to,   hold   your 
tongue. 

&rth.  Hubert,  the  utterance  of  a  brace  of  tongues 
Must  needs  want  pleading  for  a  pair  of  eyes : 
Let  me  not  hold  my  tongue,— let  me  not,  Hubert  1 
Or,  Hubert,  if  you  will,  cut  out  my  tongue, 
So  I  may  keep  mine  eyes.     O,  spare  mine  eyes; 
Though  to  no  use  but  still  to  look  on  you  1 
Lo,  by  my  troth,N  the  instrument  is  cold, 
And  would  not  harm  me. 

Hub.  I  can  heat  it,  boy. 

Arth.   No,  in  good  sooth;  the  fire   is   dead  with 

grief, 

Being  create  for  comfort,  to  be  used 
In  undeserv'd  extremes :   see  else  yourself; 
There  is  no  malice  in  this  burning  coal; 
The  breath  of  heaven  hath  blown  his  spirit  out, 
And  strewed  repentant  ashes  on  his  head. 

Hub.    But  with  my  breath  I  can  revive  it,  boy. 

Arth.   And    if   you    do,    you    will    but    make    it 

blush 

And  glow  with  shame  of  your  proceedings,  Hubert : 
Nay,  it  perchance  will  sparkle  in  your  eyes; 
And,  like  a  dog  that  is  compelled  to  fight, 
Snatch  at  his  master  that  doth  tarreN  him  on. 
All  things  that  you  should  use  to  do  me  wrong 
Deny  their  office :   only  you  do  lack 
That  mercy  which  fierce  fire  and  iron  extend, 
Creatures  of  note  for  mercy-lacking  uses. 


FIFTH    READER.  427 

Hub.    Well,  see   to   live;    I   will    not   touch  thine 

eyes 

For  all  the  treasure  that  thine  uncle  owns : 
Yet  am  I  sworn,  and  I  did  purpose,  boy, 
With  this  same  very  iron  to  burn  them  out. 

Arth.    O,    now    you    look    like    Hubert !    all    this 

while 
You  were  disguised. 

Hub.  Peace  :   no  more.     Adieu ; 

Your  uncle  must  not  know  but  you  are  dead: 
I'll  nil  these  dogged  spies  with  false  reports. 
And,  pretty  child,  sleep  doubtless  and  secure 
That  Hubert,  for  the  wealth  of  all  the  world, 
Will  not  offend  thee. 

Arth.  O  heaven!— I  thank  you,  Hubert. 

Hub.  Silence;   no  more;  go  closely  in  with  me. 
Much  danger  do  I  undergo  for  thee.  [Exeunt. 

WILLIAM  SHAKSPEARE. 


Biography. —William  Shakspeare  (1564-1616),  the  greatest  of 
English  poets  and  dramatists,  was  born  at  Stratford-on-Avon, 
England. 

Very  little  is  known  in  regard  to  his  early  life,  and  the  man- 
ner of  his  education  must  remain  matter  for  conjecture.  At  the 
age  of  twenty-two  he  went  to  London,  and  soon  came  into  notice 
as  a  writer  of  plays.  It  is  not  possible  here  to  go  into  the  details 
of  his  success  or  to  speak  of  his  marvelous  genius.  His  first 
drama  was  written  in  1590  and  the  last  in  1613;  in  all  they 
number  thirty-five. 

Notes.  —  Dispiteous  is  made  up  of  the  prefix  dis  and  the  stem 
piteous,  and  means  without  pity,  cruel.  The  word  is  now  obso- 
lete. 

Fair  writ  means  well  written,  hence  easily  read  and  under- 
stood. 

Ex'eunt  is  a  L,atin  word,  meaning  they  go  forth,  depart. 

Chid  (for  chidden)  awaij,  means  driven  away  by  reproaches. 

Troth  is  the  same  as  truth.  Ry  my  troth  means  nearly  the  same 
as  "on  my  honor." 

Tarre  (tar)  means  drive,  drive  with  a  whip  (obsolete}. 


428  FIFTH    READER. 


96.— THE     CAPTURE     OF    QUEBEC. 

(A.   D.    1759.) 


in  trenched',  surrounded  with  a 

ditch;  fortified. 
skii/mish  er§,  light  troops  sent 


and  movements  of  an 
es  -edrt'  ed,  accompanied. 
en  dur'  an£^,  fortitude. 
•ear'  nag^,  slaughter 
in  ev'  i  ta  bl^,  unavoidable. 


re  douVt',  outwork  placed  within 

another  outwork. 
re'-en  for9^'ment§,  additional 

forces. 
a  la-e'ri  ty,  readiness;  a  cheerful 


phiv'al  r^us,  gallant. 

flo  til'  la,  fleet  of  small  vessels. 

eT  e  $y,  sorrowful  poem. 


The  closing  scene  of  French  dominion  in  Canada 
was  marked  "by  circumstances  of  deep  and  peculiar 
interest.  The  pages  of  romance  can  furnish  no  more 
striking  episode  than  the  Battle  of  Quebec.  The 
skill  and  daring  of  the  plan  which  brought  on  the 
combat,  and  the  success  and  fortune  of  its  execution, 
are  unparalleled.  A  broad,  open  plain,  offering  no 
advantages  to  either  party,  was  the  field  of  fight. 
The  contending  armies  were  nearly  equal  in  mili- 
tary strength,  if  not  in  numbers.  The  chiefs  of 
both  were  already  men  of  honorable  fame. 

France  trusted  firmly  in  the  wise  and  chival- 
rous Montcalm.  England  trusted  hopefully  in  the 
young  and  heroic  Wolfe.  The  magnificent  strong- 
hold which  was  staked  upon  the  issue  of  the  strife, 
stood  close  at  hand.  For  miles  and  miles  around, 
the  prospect  extended  over  as  fair  a  land  as  ever 
rejoiced  the  sight  of  man— mountain  and  valley, 
forest  and  waters,  city  and  solitude,  grouped  together 
in  forms  of  almost  ideal  beauty. 

Quebec  stands  on  the  slope  of  a  lofty  eminence 
on  the  left  bank  of  the  St.  Lawrence.  That  portion 


FIFTH    READER.  429 

of  the  heights  nearest  the  town  on  the  west  is  called 
the  Plains  of  Abraham.  Wolfe  had  discovered  a  nar- 
row path  winding  up  the  side  of  the  steep  precipice 
from  the  river.  For  miles  on  either  side  there  was 
no  other  possible  access  to  the  heights.  Up  this 
narrow  path  Wolfe  decided  to  secretly  lead  his  whole 
army,  and  make  the  plains  his  battle-ground. 

Great  preparations .  were  made  throughout  the 
fleet  and  the  army  for  the  decisive  movement ;  but 
the  plans  were  all  kept  secret. 

At  nine  o'clock  at  night,  on  the  13th  of  Septem- 
ber, 1759,  the  first  division  of  the  army,  1,600  strong, 
silently  embarked  in  flat-bottomed  boats.  The  sol- 
diers were  in  high  spirits.  Wolfe  led  in  person. 
About  an  hour  before  daylight,  the  flotilla  dropped 
down  with  the  ebb-tide  in  the  friendly  shade  of  the 
overhanging  cliffs.  The  rowers  scarcely  stirred  the 
waters  with  their  oars;  the  soldiers  sat  motionless. 
Not  a  word  was  spoken,  save  by  the  young  general. 
He,  as  a  midshipman  on  board  of  his  boat  after- 
ward related,  repeated,  in  a  low  voice,  to  the  offi- 
cers by  his  side,  this  stanza  of  Gray's  ''Elegy  Written 
in  a  Country  Church-yard:" 

"The  boast  of  heraldry, N  the  pomp  of  power, 

And  all  that  beauty,   all  that  wealth  e'er  gave. 
Await  alike  the  inevitable  hour :  — 

The  paths  of  glory  lead  but  to  the  grave." 

As  he  concluded  the  beautiful  verses,  he  said, 
"Now,  gentlemen,  I  would  rather  be  the  author  of 
that  poem  than  take  Quebec ! " 

But  while  Wolfe  thus  gave  vent  to  the  intensity 
of  his  feeling,  in  the  poet's  words,  his  eye  was 
constantly  bent  upon  the  dark  outline  of  the 


43O  FIFTH    READER. 

heights  under  whicli  lie  was  hurrying.  At  length 
he  recognized  the  appointed  spot  and  leaped  ashore. 

Some  of  the  leading  "boats,  conveying  the  light 
company  of  the  78th  Highlanders,  had,  in  the  mean- 
time, been  carried  about  two  hundred  yards  lower 
down  by  the  strength  of  the  tide.  These  High- 
landers, under  Captain  MacDonald,  were  the  first  to 
land.  Immediately  over  their  heads  hung  a  woody 
precipice,  without  path  or  track  upon  its  rocky  face. 
On  the  summit,  a  French  sentinel  marched  to  and 
fro,  still  unconscious  of  their  presence. 

Without  a  moment's  hesitation,  MacDonald  and 
his  men  dashed  at  the  height.  They  scrambled 
up,  holding  on  by  rocks  and  branches  of  trees, 
guided  only  by  the  stars  that  shone  over  the  top 
of  the  cliff.  Half  of  the  ascent  was  already  won, 
when,  for  the  first  time,  "Qui  vive?"  broke  the 
silence  of  the  night.  "La  France,"  answered  the 
Highland  captain,  with  ready  self-possession,  and 
the  sentry  shouldered  his  musket  and  pursued  his 
round. 

In  a  few  minutes,  however,  the  rustling  of  the 
trees  close  at  hand  alarmed  the  French  guard. 
They  hastily  turned  out,  fired  one  irregular  volley 
down  the  precipice,  and  fled  in  a  panic.  The  cap- 
tain, alone,  though  wounded,  stood  his  ground. 
When  summoned  to  surrender,  he  fired  at  one 
of  the  leading  assailants,  but  was  instantly  over- 
powered. In  the  meantime,  nearly  five  hundred 
men  landed  and  made  their  way  up  the  height. 
Those  who  had  first  reached  the  summit  then  took 
possession  of  the  intrenched  post  at  the  top  of  the 
path  which  Wolfe  had  selected  for  the  ascent  of  his 
army. 


FIFTH    READER.  431 

Wolfe,  Monckton,  and  Murray  landed  with  the 
first  division.  As  fast  as  each  boat  was  cleared,  it 
put  back  for  re-enforcements  to  the  ships,  which 
had  now  also  floated  down  with  the  tide  to  a  point 
nearly  opposite  that  of  disembarkation.  The  bat- 
talions formed  on  the  narrow  beach  at  the  foot  of 
the  winding  path;  and  as  soon  as  completed,  each 
ascended  the  cliff,  when  they  again  formed  upon 
the  plains  above. 

The  boats  plied  busily;  company  after  company 
was  quickly  landed,  and  they  swarmed  up  the  steep 
ascent  with  ready  alacrity.  When  morning  broke, 
the  whole  disposable  force  of  Wolfe's  army  stood  in 
firm  array  upon  the  table-land  above  the  cove. 
Only  one  gun,  however,  could  be  carried  up  the 
hill;  and  even  that  was  not  placed  in  position  with- 
out incredible  difficulty. 

Montcalm  was  already  worsted  as  a  general:  it 
was  still  left  him,  however,  to  fight  as  a  soldier. 
His  order  of  battle  was  steadily  and  promptly  made. 
He  commanded  the  center  column  in  person.  His 
total  force  engaged  was  7,520,  besides  Indians.  Wolfe 
showed  only  a  force  of  4,828  of  all  ranks;  but  every 
man  was  a  trained  soldier. 

The  French  attacked.  After  a  spirited  advance 
made  by  a  swarm  of  skirmishers,  their  main  body, 
in  long,  unbroken  lines,  was  seen  approaching 
Wolfe's  position.  Soon  a  murderous  and  incessant 
fire  began.  The  British  troops  fell  fast.  Wolfe  was 
struck  in  the  wrist,  but  was  not  disabled. 

Wrapping  a  handkerchief  around  the  wound,  he 
hastened  from  one  rank  to  another,  exhorting  the 
men  to  be  steady  and  to  reserve  their  fire.  No 
English  soldier  pulled  a  trigger ;  with  matchless 


432  FIFTH    READER. 

endurance  they  sustained  the  trial.  Not  a  company 
wavered;  their  arms  shouldered  as  if  011  parade, 
and  motionless,  save  when  they  closed  up  the 
ghastly  gaps,  they  waited  the  word  of  command. 

When  the  head  of  the  French  attack  had  reached 
within  forty  yards,  Wolfe  gave  the  order:  "Fire." 
At  once  the  long  row  of  muskets  was  leveled,  and 
a  volley,  distinct  as  a  single  shot,  flashed  from  the 
British  line.  For  a  moment  the  advancing  columns 
still  pressed  on,  shivering  like  pennons  in  the  fatal 
storm;  but  a  few  paces  told  how  terrible  had  been 
the  force  of  the  long-suspended  blow. 

Montcalm  commanded  the  attack  in  person.  Not 
fifteen  minutes  had  elapsed  since  he  had  first 
moved  on  his  line  of  battle,  and  already  all  was 
lost !  But  the  gallant  Frenchman,  though  ruined, 
was  not  dismayed.  He  rode  through  the  broken 
ranks,  cheered  them  with  his  voice,  encouraged 
them  by  his  dauntless  bearing,  and,  aided  by  a 
small  redoubt,  even  succeeded  in  once  again  pre- 
senting a  front  to  his  enemy. 

Meanwhile  Wolfe's  troops  had  reloaded.  He  seized 
the  opportunity  of  the  hesitation  in  the  hostile 
ranks,  and  ordered  the  whole  British  line  to  ad- 
vance. At  first  they  moved  forward  with  majestic 
regularity,  receiving  and  paying  back  with  deadly 
interest  the  volleys  of  the  French;  but  soon  the 
ardor  of  the  soldiers  broke  through  the  restraints 
of  discipline  —  they  increased  their  pace  to  a  run, 
rushing  over  the  dying  and  the  dead,  and  sweeping 
the  living  enemy  from  their  path. 

Wolfe  was  soon  wounded  in  the  body;  but  he 
concealed  his  suffering,  for  his  work  was  not  yet 
accomplished.  Again  a  ball  from  the  redoubt  struck 


FIFTH    READER.  433 

him  in  the  breast.  He  reeled  to  one  side;  but  at 
the  moment  it  was  not  generally  observed. 

"Support  me,"  said  he  to  a  grenadier  officer  who 
was  close  at  hand,  "that  my  brave  fellows  may  not 
see  me  fall."  In  a  few  seconds,  however,  he  sunk  to 
the  ground,  and  was  borne  a  little  to  the  rear. 

The  brief  struggle  fell  heavily  upon  the  British, 
but  was  ruinous  to  the  French.  They  wavered 
under  the  carnage ;  the  columns  which  death  had 
disordered  were  soon  broken  and  scattered.  Mont- 
calm,  with  a  courage  that  rose  above  the  wreck  of 
hope,  galloped  through  the  groups  of  his  stubborn 
veterans,  who  still  made  head  against  the  enemy, 
and  strove  to  show  a  front  of  battle.  His  efforts 
were  vain.  The  head  of  every  formation  was  swept 
away  before  that  terrible  musketry.  In  a  few 
minutes  the  French  gave  way  in  all  directions. 
Just  then  their  gallant  general  fell  with  a  mortal 
wound ;  from  that  time  all  was  utter  rout. 

While  the  British  troops  were  carrying  all  before 
them,  their  young  general's  life  was  ebbing  fast 
away.  From  time  to  time  he  tried,  with  his  faint 
hand,  to  clear  away  the  death-mist  that  gathered 
before  his  sight;  but  the  efforts  seemed  vain,  for 
presently  he  lay  back,  and  gave  no  signs  of  life 
beyond  a  heavy  breathing  and  an  occasional  groan. 

Meantime  the  French  had  given  way,  and  were 
flying  in  all  directions.  A  grenadier  officer  seeing 
this,  called  out  to  those  around  him,  "  See !  they 
run ! "  The  words  caught  the  ear  of  the  dying  man. 
He  raised  himself,  like  one  aroused  from  sleep, 
and  eagerly  asked,  "Who  run?"  "The  enemy,  sir," 
answered  the  officer;  "they  give  way  every- where." 

"Go,  one  of  you,  to  Colonel  Burton,"  said  Wolfe; 


434  FIFTH    READER. 

"tell  him  to  march  Webbe's  regiment  with  all 
speed  down  to  the  St.  Charles  River,  to  cut  off  the 
retreat. "N  His  voice  grew  faint  as  he  spoke,  and  he 
turned  on  his  side,  as  if  seeking  an  easier  position, 
When  he  had  given  this  last  order,  his  eyes  closed 
in  death. 

Wolfe's  body  was  embalmed,  and  borne  to  the 
river  for  conveyance  to  England.  The  army  escorted 
it  in  solemn  state  to  the  beach.  They  mourned 
their  young  general's  death  as  sincerely  as  they  had 
followed  him  in  battle  bravely. 

WARBURTON. 


Biograpliy.  — William  Warburton  (1698-1779),  commonly  known 
as  Bishop  Warburton,  was  a  distinguished  English  divine,  whose 
services  to  the  literature  of  his  time  are  universally  admitted. 

Notes.  — Heraldry  in  the  lesson  means  "proud  name,"  or  "old 
and  titled  family,"  since  heraldry  is  the  science  that  relates  to 
deciphering  the  meaning  of  the  various  devices  and  designs  used 
as  emblems  by  the  old  and  titled  families  in  kingdoms. 

"  God  be  praised  1'  I  die  happy,"  according  to  another  author- 
ity, were  Wolfe's  last  words. 

Elocution.  — Pronounce  in  a  whisper  the  following  lines,  as  an 
exercise  in  articulation  — 

"In  a  few  minutes,  however,  the  rustling  of  the  trees  close 
at  hand  alarmed  the  French  guard." 

Point  out  the  words  that  are  most  difficult  to  pronounce  in 
the  first  sentence  of  the  second  paragraph.  Whisper  them. 

Language.  — Explain  the  difference  in  meaning  of  the  following 
words  :  — chief ,  commander,  leader,  general. 

Compose  a  sentence  in  which  any  one  of  them  could  be  cor- 
rectly used ;  and  then,  if  possible,  compose  two  sentences  in  which 
the  words  can  not  be  interchanged. 

Select  from  the  lesson  two  words  which  are  synonymous. 

Composition.  —In  considering  the  question  of  merit  in  regard 
to  a  composition,  we  may  ask  the  following  questions  — 

1.  Does  the  treatment  bear  altogether  upon  the  subject? 

2.  Is  the  treatment  complete? 

3.  Is  the  language  in  keeping  with  the  subject? 


be   praised  I    I    die   happy"      (See   page  434.) 


FIFTH    READER. 


436 


97.  —  ELEGY      WRITTEN     IN     A     COUNTRY     CHURCH- 
YARD. 


an'them,  church  music  adapted 
to  passages  from  the  Scriptures. 

9ir'-eum  s-erib^d",    bounded; 
limited. 

•e6n'  tern  pla'  tion,  reflection  ; 
musing. 

ig  no'  bl^,  mean;  base. 

l'  an  -el^.61'  y,  grief;  gloom. 


£p'  i  taph  (gp'i  taf ),  a  writing  on 
a  tombstone  in  memory  of  the 
dead. 

in  df£n'  u  §fts,  noble;  frank. 

J6e'  und,  merrily. 

im  put^',  charge;  attribute. 

pr£g'  nant,  teeming;  fitted. 

un  fa  th'  om^d,  unmeasured. 


The  curfew  tolls  the  knell  of  parting  day, 

The  lowing  herd  winds  slowly  o'er  the  lea; 

The  plowman  homeward  plods  his  weary  way, 
And  leaves  the  world  to  darkness  and  to  me. 

Now  fades  the  glimmering  landscape  on  the  sight, 
And  all  the  air  a  solemn  stillness  holds, 

Save  whero  the  beetle  wheels  his  droning  flight, 
And  drowsy  tinklings  lull  the  distant  folds,— 

Save  that  from  yonder  ivy-mantled  tower 

The  moping  owl  does  to  the  moon  complain 

Of  such  as,  wandering  near  her  secret  bower, 
Molest  her  ancient,  solitary  reign. 

Beneath  those  rugged  elms,  that  yew-tree's  shade, 
Where  heaves  the  turf  in  many  a  moldering  heap, 

Ep^h  in  his  narrow  cell  forever  laid, 

The  rude  forefathers  of  the  hamlet  sleep. 

The  breezy  call  of  incense-breathing  morn, 

The  swallow  twittering  from  the  straw-built  shed, 

The  cock's  shrill  clarion,  or  the  echoing  horn, 

No  more  shall  rouse  them  from  their  lowly  bed, 


436  FIFTH    READER. 

For  them  no  more  the  blazing  hearth  shall  burn, 
Or  busy  housewife  ply  her  evening  care ; 

No  children  run  to  lisp  their  sire's  return, 

Or  climb  his  knees  the  envied  kiss  to  share. 

Oft  did  the  harvest  to  their  sickle  yield, 

Their  furrow  oft  the  stubborn  glebe  has  broke; 

How  jocund  did  they  drive  their  team  a-fleld! 

How    bowed    the    woods    beneath    their    sturdy 
stroke ! 

Let  not  Ambition  mock  their  useful  toil, 
Their  homely  joys,  and  destiny  obscure; 

Nor  Grandeur  hear  with  a  disdainful  smile 
The  short  and  simple  annals  of  the  poor. 

The  boast  of  heraldry,  the  pomp  of  power, 

And  all  that  beauty,  all  that  wealth  e'er  gave, 

Await  alike  the  inevitable  hour:— 

The  paths  of  glory  lead  but  to  the  grave. 

Nor  you,  ye  proud,  impute  to  these  the  fault, 
If  Memory  o'er  their  tomb  no  trophies  raise, 

Where    through    the   long-drawn    aisle    and    fretted 

vault 
The  pealing  anthem  swells  the  note  of  praise. 

Can  storied  urn  or  animated  bust 

Back  to  its  mansion  call  the  fleeting  breath? 
Can  Honor's  voice  provoke  the  silent  dust, 

Or  Flattery  soothe  the  dull,  cold  ear  of  Death? 

Perhaps  in  this  neglected  spot  is  laid 

Some  heart  once  pregnant  with  celestial  fire; 

Hands  that  the  rod  of  empire  might  have  swayed, 
Or  waked  to  ecstasy  the  living  lyre:— 


FIFTH    READER.  437 

But  Knowledge  to  their  eyes  her  ample  page, 

Rich  with  the  spoils  of  time,  did  ne'er  unroll ; 

Chill  Penury  repressed  their  noble  rage, 
And  froze  the  genial  current  of  the  soul. 

Full  many  a  gem  of  purest  ray  serene, 

The  dark,  unfathomed  caves  of  ocean  bear; 

Full  many  a  flower  is  born  to  blush  unseen, 
And  waste  its  sweetness  on  the  desert  air. 

Some  village  Hampden,N  that  with  dauntless  breast 
The  little  tyrant  of  his  fields  withstood; 

Some  mute,  inglorious  Milton N  here  may  rest,— 
Some  Cromwell,N  guiltless  of  his  country's  blood. 

The  applause  of  listening  senates  to  command, 
The  threats  of  pain  and  ruin  to  despise, 

To  scatter  plenty  o'er  a  smiling  land, 

And  read  their  history  in  a  nation's  eyes, 

Their  lot  forbade:   nor  circumscribed  alone 

Their    growing    virtues,    but    their    crimes    con- 
fined;— 

Forbade  to  wade  through  slaughter  to  a  throne, 
And  shut  the  gates  of  mercy  on  mankind; 

The  struggling  pangs  of  conscious  truth  to  hide, 
To  quench  the  blushes  of  ingenuous  shame, 

Or  heap  the  shrine  of  Luxury  and  Pride 
With  incense  kindled  at  the  Muse's  flame. 

Far  from  the  madding  crowd's  ignoble  strife, 
Their  sober  wishes  never  learned  to  stray; 

Along  the  cool,  sequestered  vale  of  life, 

They  kept  the  noiseless  tenor  of  their  way. 


438  FIFTH    READER. 

Yet  e'en  these  bones  from  insult  to  protect, 
Some  frail  memorial  still  erected  nigh, 

With,     uncouth,     rhymes    and     shapeless     sculpture 

decked, 
Implores  the  passing-  tribute  of  a  sigh. 

Their    name,   their    years,   spelt    by    the    unlettered 
Muse, 

The  place  of  fame  and  elegy  supply; 
And  many  a  holy  text  around  she  strews, 

That  teach  the  rustic  moralist  to  die. 

For  who,  to  dumb  Forgetfulness  a  prey, 

This  pleasing,  anxious  being  e'er  resigned; 
Left  the  warm  precincts  of  the  cheerful  day, 

cast  one  longing,  lingering  look  behind? 


On  some  fond  breast  the  parting  soul  relies; 

Some  pious  drops  the  closing  eye  requires; 
Even  from  the  tomb  the  voice  of  Nature  cries,— 

Even  in  our  ashes  live  their  wonted  fires. 

For  thee,  who,  mindful  of  the  unhonored  dead, 
Dost  in  these  lines  their  artless  tale  relate; 

If  chance,  by  lonely  Contemplation  led, 

Some  kindred  spirit  shall  inquire  thy  fate,— 

Haply  some  hoary-headed  swain  may  say, 

"Oft  have  we  seen  him  at  the  peep  of  dawn, 

Brushing  with  hasty  steps  the  dews  away, 
To  meet  the  sun  upon  the  upland  lawn; 

"There  at  the  foot  of  yonder  nodding  beech, 

That  wreathes  its  old,  fantastic  roots  so  high, 

His  listless  length  at  noontide  would  he  stretch, 
And  pore  upon  the  brook  that  babbles  by. 


FIFTH    READER.  439 

"Hard  by  yon  wood,  now  smiling  as  in  scorn, 
Muttering  Ms  wayward  fancies,  lie  would  rove ; 

Now  drooping,  woful,  wan,  like  one  forlorn, 

Or  crazed  with  care,  or  crossed  in  hopeless  love. 

"One  morn  I  missed  him  on  the  'customed  hill, 
Along  the  heath,  and  near  his  favorite  tree; 

Another  came,— nor  yet  "beside  the  rill, 

JSTor  up  the  lawn,  nor  at  the  wood  was  he; 

"The  next,  with  dirges  due,  in  sad  array, 

Slow  through  the  church-way  path  we  saw  him 
"borne  ;— 

Approach  and  read— for  thou  canst  read— the  lay 
Graved  on  the  stone  beneath  yon  aged  thorn." 


THE     EPITAPH. 

Here  rests  his  head  upon  the  lap  of  Earth, 
A  youth  to  Fortune  and  to  Fame  unknown; 

Fair  Science  frowned  not  on  his  humble  bvrth, 
And  Melancholy  marked  him  for  her  own. 

Large  was  his  bounty,  and  his  soul  sincere; 

Heaven  did  a  recompense  as  largely  send: 
He  gave  to  Misery, — att  he  had — a  tear; 

He  gained  from  Heaven, — 'twas  att  he  wished — a  friend. 

No  furtJier  seek  his  merits  to  disclose, 

Or  draw  his  frailties  from  their  dread  abode, — 

There  they  alike  in  trembling  hope  repose — 
The  bosom  of  his  Father  and  his  God. 

THOMAS  GRAY. 


440  FIFTH  HEADER. 


Biography.  —  Thomas  Gray  (1716-1771)  was  a  native  of  London 
and  a  graduate  of  Cambridge  University. 

After  visiting  foreign  countries,  Gray  returned  to  Cambridge, 
and  remained  there  during  the  rest  of  his  life.  His  "Ode  to 
Eton  College"  was  published  in  1747  and  his  "Elegy  Written  in 
a  Country  Church-yard,"  in  1749.  Although  many  of  his  poems 
are  devoid  of  interest  to  the  general  public,  his  "Elegy"  more 
than  compensates  for  the  rest.  On  the  death  of  the  poet  Colley 
Gibber,  he  was  offered  the  post  of  poet  laureate,  but  declined  the 
honor. 

Notes.  — John  Hampden  (Hamp'den)  (1594-1643)  was  regarded  as 
a  hero  by  the  English  people,  on  account  of  his  determined  stand 
against  unjust  taxation. 

John  Milton  (1608-1674),  the  author  of  "Paradise  Lost,"  is  re- 
ferred to. 

Oliver  Cromwell.     See  note,  page  212. 

Elocution.  —  Give  full  particulars  in  regard  to  the  proper  man- 
ner of  reading  this  poem. 

Language.  —  Notice  the  number  of  different  -ways  in  which  the 
words  composing  the  third  line  of  the  first  stanza  may  be  ar- 
ranged. 


98.  —  THE     BATTLE     OF     THERMOPYLAE. 

PART      I. 


mar'  shal  ing,  arranging;  lead- 
ing. 

ehSr'  ish^d,  nurtured  with  care; 
dear. 

6n'  voy§,  messengers. 

de  fll^d',  soiled;  rendered  foul. 


sa' traps,  governors  of  provinces. 
'  boot'  ing,  robbing  ;  plun- 


ab  hor^d',  hated. 
po'tent  at^,  ruler. 
6b'  se  qui^s.,  funeral  services. 


There  was  trembling  in  Greece.  "The  Great 
King,"  as  the  Greeks  called  the  chief  potentate  of 
the  East,  whose  domains  stretched  from  the  Indian 
Caucasus  to  the  ^Egeeus,  from  the  Caspian  to  the 
Bed  Sea,  was  marshaling  his  forces  against  the 
little  free  states  that  nestled  amid  the  rocks  and 
gu-lfs  of  the  Eastern  Mediterranean. 


FIFTH    READER.  441 

Already  had  his  might  devoured  the  cherished 
colonies  of  the  Greeks  on  the  eastern  shore  of  the 
Archipelago,  and  every  traitor  to  home  institutions 
found  a  ready  asylum  at  that  despotic  court,  and 
tried  to  revenge  his  own  wrongs  by  whispering 
incitements  to  invasion. 

"All  people,  nations,  and  languages,"  was  the 
commencement  of  the  decrees  of  that  monarch's 
court;  and  it  was  scarcely  a  vain  boast,  for  his 
satraps  ruled  over  subject  kingdoms,  and  among 
his  tributary  nations  he  counted  the  Chaldean, 
with  his  learning  and  old  civilization,  the  wise  and 
steadfast  Jew,  the  skillful  Phoenician,  the  learned 
Egyptian,  the  wild  freebooting  Arab  of  the  desert, 
the  dark-skinned  Ethiopian,  and  over  all  these  ruled 
the  keen-witted,  active,  native  Persian  race,  the  con- 
querors of  all  the  rest,  and  led  by  a  chosen  band 
proudly  called  the  Immortals. 

His  many  capitals— Babylon  the  great,  Susa,  Per- 
sepolis,  and  the  like — were  names  of  dreamy  splen- 
dor to  the  Greeks,  described  now  and  then  by 
lonians  from  Asia  Minor  who  had  carried  their 
tribute  to  the  king's  own  feet,  or  by  courtier  slaves 
who  had  escaped  with  difficulty  from  being  all  too 
serviceable  at  the  tyrannic  court. 

And  the  lord  of  this  enormous  empire  was  about 
to  launch  his  countless  host  against  the  little  clus- 
ter of  states,  the  whole  of  which  would  hardly 
equal  one  province  of  the  huge  Asiatic  realm ! 
Moreover,  it  was  a  war  not  only  on  the  men,  but 
on  their  gods.  The  Persians  were  zealous  adorers 
of  the  sun  and  of  fire;  they  abhorred  the  idol- wor- 
ship of  the  Greeks,  and  denied  and  plundered  every 
temple  that  fell  in  their  way.  Death  and  desola- 


442  FIFTH    HEADER. 

tion  were  almost  the  "best  that  could  be  looked  for 
at  such,  hands— slavery  and  torture  from  cruelly 
barbarous  masters  would  only  too  surely  be  the  lot 
of  numbers,  should  their  land  fall  a  prey  to  the 
conquerors. 

True  it  was  that  ten  years  back  the  former 
Great  King  had  sent  his  best  troops  to  be  signally 
defeated  upon  the  coast  of  Attica;  but  the  losses  at 
Marathon  had  but  stimulated  the  Persian  lust  of 
conquest,  and  the  new  king,  Xerxes,  was  gathering 
such  myriads  of  men  as  would  crush  the  Q-reeks 
and  overrun  their  country  by  mere  force  of  num- 
bers. 

The  muster  place  was  at  Sardis,  and  there  G-reek 
spies  had  seen  the  multitudes  assembling  and  the 
state  and  magnificence  of  the  king's  attendants. 
Envoys  had  come  from  him  to  demand  earth  and 
water  from  each  state  in  Greece,  as  emblems  that 
land  and  sea  were  his;  but  each  state  was  resolved 
to  be  free,  and  only  Thessaly,  that  lay  first  in  his 
path,  consented  to  yield  the  token  of  submission. 

A  council  was  held  at  the  Isthmus  of  Corinth, 
and  was  attended  by  deputies  from  all  the  states  of 
Greece  to  consider  the  best  means  of  defense.  The 
ships  of  the  enemy  would  coast  around  the  shores 
of  the  ^Egean  sea,  the  land  army  would  cross  the 
Hellespont  on  a  bridge  of  boats  lashed  together, 
and  march  southward  into  Greece. 

The  only  hope  of  averting  the  danger  lay  in 
defending  such  passages  as,  from  the  nature  of  the 
ground,  were  so  narrow  that  only  a  few  persons 
could  fight  hand  to  hand  at  once,  so  that  courage 
would  be  of  more  avail  than  numbers. 

The  first   of  these   passes  was   called  Tempe,  and 


FIFTH    READER.  443 

a  body  of  troops  was  sent  to  guard  it;  but  they 
found  that  this  was  useless  and  impossible,  and 
came  back  again.  The  next  was  at  Thermopylae. 
Look  on  your  map  of  Greece  for  the  great  island 
of  Negropont,  or  for  its  old  name,  Eubcea. 

It  looks  like  a  piece  broken  off  from  the  coast, 
and  to  the  north  is  shaped  like  the  head  of  a  bird, 
with  the  beak  running  into  a  gulf,  that  would  lit 
over  it.  Between  the  island  and  the  coast  is  an 
exceedingly  narrow  strait.  The  Persian  army  would 
have  to  march  round  the  edge  of  the  gulf.  They 
could  not  cut  straight  across  the  country,  because 
the  ridge  of  mountains  called  CEta  rose  up  and 
barred  their  way. 

Indeed,  the  woods,  rocks,  and  precipices  came 
down  so  near  the  sea-shore,  that  in  two  places 
there  was  only  room  for  one  single  wheel  track 
between  the  steeps  and  the  impassable  morass  that 
formed  the  border  of  the  gulf  on  its  south  side. 

These  two  very  narrow  places  were  called  the 
gates  of  the  pass,  and  were  about  a  mile  apart. 
There  was  a  little  more  width  left  in  the  interven- 
ing space.  In  this  there  were  a  number  of  springs 
of  warm  mineral  water,  salt  and  sulphurous,  which 
were  used  for  the  sick  to  bathe  in,  and  thus  the 
place  was  called  Thermopylse,  or  the  Hot  Gates. 

A  wall  had  once  been  built  across  the  western- 
most of  these  narrow  places,  when  the  Thessalians 
and  Phocians,  who  lived  on  either  side  of  it,  had 
been  at  war  with  each  other;  but  it  had  been 
allowed  to  go  to  decay,  since  the  Phocians  had 
found  out  that  there  was  a  very  steep,  narrow 
mountain  path  along  the  bed  of  a  torrent,  by 
which  it  was  possible  to  cross  from  one  territory 


444  FIFTH 


to  the  other  without  going  round  this  marshy 
coast  road. 

This  was,  therefore,  an  excellent  place  to  defend. 
The  Greek  ships  were  all  drawn  up  on  the  farther 
side  of  Euboea  to  prevent  the  Persian  vessels  from 
getting  into  the  strait  and  landing  men  "beyond 
the  pass,  and  a  division  of  the  army  was  sent  off 
to  guard  the  Hot  Gates.  The  council  at  the  isth- 
mus did  not  know  of  the  mountain  pathway,  and 
thought  that  all  would  "be  safe  as  long  as  the  Per- 
sians were  kept  out  of  the  coast  path. 

The  troops  sent  for  this  purpose  were  from  dif- 
ferent cities,  and  amounted  to  about  four  thousand, 
who  were  to  keep  the  pass  against  two  millions. 
The  leader  of  them  was  Leonidas,  who  had  recently 
"become  one  of  the  two  kings  of  Sparta,  the  city 
that  above  all  others  in  Greece  trained  its  sons  to 
be  hardy  soldiers,  dreading  death  infinitely  less 
than  shame. 

Leonidas  had  already  made  up  his  mind  that 
the  expedition  would  probably  be  his  death,  per- 
haps because  a  prophecy  had  been  given  at  the 
Temple  at  Delphi  N  that  Sparta  should  be  saved  by 
the  death  of  one  of  her  kings  of  the  race  of  Her- 
cules. He  was  allowed  by  law  to  take  with  him 
three  hundred  men,  and  these  he  chose  most  care- 
fully, not  merely  for  their  strength  and  courage, 
but  selecting  those  who  had  sons,  so  that  no  fam- 
ily might  be  altogether  destroyed. 

These  Spartans,  with  their  slaves,  made  up  his 
own  share  of  the  number,  but  all  the  army  was 
under  his  generalship.  It  is  even  said  that  the  three 
hundred  celebrated  their  own  funeral  rites  before 
they  set  out,  lest  they  should  be  deprived  of  them 


FIFTH    READER.  44S 

by  the  enemy,  since  it  was  the  Greek  belief  that  the 
spirits  of  the  dead  found  no  rest  till  their  obsequies 
had  been  performed. 

Such  preparations  did  not  daunt  the  spirits  of 
Leonidas  and  his  men,  and  his  wife,  G-orgo,  Avas  not 
a  woman  to  be  faint-hearted  or  to  hold  him  back. 
Long  before,  when  she  was  a  very  little  girl,  a  word 
of  hers  had  saved  her  father  from  listening  to  a 
traitorous  message  from  the  King  of  Persia;  and 
every  Spartan  lady  was  bred  up  to  be  able  to  say 
to  those  she  best  loved  that  they  must  come  home 
from  battle  with  their  shield,  or  on  it  — either 
carrying  it  victoriously,  or  borne  upon  it  as  a 
corpse. 

Note,  — The  Temple  at  Delphi,  situated  in  Phocis,  Greece,  -was  re- 
nowned in  ancient  times  on  account  of  its  oracle.  The  chief 
magistrates  and  priests  of  the  temple  were  selected  from  the 
Delphian  nobles,  while  the  Pythia  (pith'  i  a),  or  female  who  de- 
livered the  oracle,  was  selected  from  some  family  of  poor  coun- 
try people.  So  correct  were  the  responses  of  the  oracle  supposed 
to  be,  that  long  journeys  were  made  for  the  purpose  of  consult- 
ing it. 

Elocution.  — An  easy  style  of  reading  should  be  cultivated,  and 
the  best  directions  that  can  be  given  for  acquiring  it  are  — 

1.  To  study   carefully  what   we   are   to    read,  so   as   not   to   be 
hindered  by  any  difficulties  in  meaning. 

2.  To  practice  frequently  reading   aloud,   so  as  to   gain  perfect 
control  over  the  organs  of  speech. 

Language.  — Distinguish  the  meaning  of  the  following  words: 
trembling,  shaking,  quivering. 

Mention  three  prefixes  and  two  suffixes,  and  give  examples 
of  their  use. 

When  words  keep  their  regular  meaning,  they  are  said  to  be 
used  in  a  literal  sense. 

In  the  first  sentence  of  the  second  paragraph  on  page  443, 
are  the  words  employed  in  a  literal  or  figurative  sense? 

State  what  kinds  of  sentences  are  used  in  the  first  paragraph. 
Select  a  complex  sentence  for  analysis,  and  point  out  the  subject 
and  predicate,  and  divide  each  into  its  simplest  parts. 


446  FIFTH    READER. 

PP.— THE     BATTLE     OF    THERMOPYL^. 

PART      I  I. 


h€i§'  band  ed,  economized;  used 


In'  e£  ha^st'  i  bl^  (egz  hawst'), 


brand'  ed,  burnt  by  a  hot  iron. 

sS^r,  prophet. 

bOd'ed,  indicated;  foreshowed. 

(skurjd),  lashed;  beat. 


shim'  mer  ing,  gleaming;  glis- 
tening. 

al  ll^d',  united. 
re  de^m^d',  recovered;  regained. 


When  Leonidas  came  to  Thermopylae,  the  Pho- 
cians  told  him  of  the  mountain  path  through  the 
chestnut  woods  of  Mount  CEta,  and  begged  to  have 
the  privilege  of  guarding  it  on  a  spot  high  up  on 
the  mountain  side,  assuring  him  that  it  was  very 
hard  to  niid  at  the  other  end,  and  that  there  was 
every  probability  that  the  enemy  would  never  dis- 
cover it.  He  consented,  and  encamping  around  the 
warm  springs,  caused  the  broken  wall  to  be  repaired, 
and  made  ready  to  meet  the  foe. 

The  Persian  army  were  seen  covering  the  whole 
country,  and  the  hearts  of  some  of '  the  southern 
Greeks  in  the  pass  began  to  sink.  Their  homes  in 
the  Peloponnesus  were  comparatively  secure— had 
they  not  better  fall  back  and  reserve  themselves  to 
defend  the  Isthmus  of  Corinth?  But  Leonidas, 
thougn  Sparta  was  safe  below  the  Isthmus,  had  no 
intention  of  abandoning  his  northern  allies,  and 
kept  the  other  Peloponnesians  to  their  posts,  only 
sending  messengers  for  further  help. 

Presently  a  Persian  on  horseback  rode  up  to  rec- 
onnoiter  the  pass.  He  could  not  see  over  the  wall, 
but  in  front  of  it  and  on  the  ramparts,  he  saw  the 
Spartans,  some  of  them  engaged  in  active  sports, 


FIFTH    READER.  447 

and  others  in  combing  their  long  hair.  He  rode 
back  to  the  king,  and  told  him  what  he  had  seen. 

Now,  Xerxes  had  in  his  camp  an  exiled  Spartan 
Prince,  named  Demaratus,  who  had  become  a  traitor 
to  his  country,  and  was  serving  as  counselor  to  the 
enemy.  Xerxes  sent  for  him,  and  asked  whether 
his  countrymen  were  mad  to  be  thus  employed,  in- 
stead of  fleeing  away;  but  Demaratus  made  answer 
that  a  hard  fight  was  no  doubt  in  preparation,  and 
that  it  was  the  custom  of  the  Spartans  to  array 
their  hair  with  especial  care  when  they  were  about 
to  enter  upon  any  great  peril.  Xerxes  would  not 
believe,  however,  that  so  petty  a  force  intended  to 
resist  him,  and  waited  four  days,  probably  expect- 
ing his  fleet  to  assist  him,  but  as  it  did  not  appear, 
the  attack  was  made. 

The  Q-reeks,  stronger  men  and  more  heavily 
armed,  were  far  better  able  to  fight  to  advantage 
than  the  Persians  with  their  short  spears  and 
wicker  shields,  and  beat  them  off  with  great  ease. 
It  is  said  that  Xerxes  three  times  leaped  off  his 
throne  in  despair  at  the  sight  of  his  troops  being 
driven  backward;  and  thus  for  two  days  it  seemed 
as  easy  to  force  a  way  through  the  Spartans  as 
through  the  rocks  themselves.  Nay,  how  could 
slavish  troops,  dragged  from  home  to  spread  the 
victories  of  an  ambitious  king,  fight  like  freemen 
who  felt  that  their  strokes  were  to  defend  their 
homes  and  children? 

But  on  that  evening  a  wretched  man,  named 
Ephialtes,  crept  into  the  Persian  camp,  and  offered, 
for  a  great  sum  of  money,  to  show  the  mountain 
path  that  would  enable  the  enemy  to  take  the  brave 
defenders  in  the  rear!  A  Persian  general,  named 


448 


FIFTH    READER. 


Hydarnes,  was  sent  off  at  night-fall  with  a  detach- 
ment to  secure  this  passage,  and  was  guided  through 
the  thick  forests  that  clothed  the  hill-side. 


"Battle    of    Thermopylae." 

In  the  stillness  of  the  air,  at  daybreak,  the  Pho- 
cian  guards  of  the  path  were  startled  by  the  crack- 
ling of  the  chestnut  leaves  under  the  tread  of  many 
feet.  They  started  up,  but  a  shower  of  arrows  was 


FIFTH     READER.  449 

discharged  at  them,  and  forgetting  all  save  the  pres- 
ent alarm,  they  fled  to  a  higher  part  of  the  moun- 
tain, and  the  enemy,  without  waiting  to  pursue 
them,  began  to  descend. 

As  day  dawned,  the  morning  light  disclosed  to 
the  watchers  of  the  Q-recian  camp  below  a  glittering 
and  shimmering  in  the  torrent  bed  where  the 
shaggy  forests  opened ;  it  was  not  the  sparkle  of 
water,  but  the  sheen  of  gilded  helmets  and  the 
gleaming  of  silvered  spears. 

Moreover,  a  Cimmerian  crept  over  to  the  wall 
from  the  Persian  camp  with  tidings  that  the  path 
had  been  betrayed,  that  the  enemy  were  climbing  it, 
and  would  come  down  beyond  the  Eastern  Grate. 
Still,  the  way  was  rugged  and  circuitous,  the  Per- 
sians would  hardly  descend  before  midday,  and 
there  was  ample  time  for  the  Greeks  to  escape  before 
they  could  thus  be  shut  in  by  the  enemy. 

There  was  a  short  council  held  over  the  morn- 
ing sacrifice.  Megistias,  the  seer,  on  inspecting  the 
entrails  of  the  slain  victim,  declared,  as  well  lie 
might,  that  their  appearance  boded  disaster.  Leon- 
idas  ordered  him  to  retire,  but  he  refused,  though 
he  sent  home  his  only  son.  There  was  no  disgrace 
to  an  ordinary  person  in  leaving  a  post  that  could 
not  be  held,  and  Leonidas  recommended  all  the 
allied  troops  under  his  command  to  march  away 
while  yet  the  way  was  open. 

As  for  himself  and  his  Spartans,  they  had  made 
up  their  minds  to  die  at  their  post,  and  there 
could  be  no  doubt  that  the  example  of  such  a  reso- 
lution would  do  more  to  save  Greece  than  their 
best  efforts  could  ever  do  if  they  were  careful  to 
reserve  themselves  for  another  occasion. 


43O  FIFTH    READER. 

All  the  allies  consented  to  retreat,  except  the 
eighty  men  who  came  from  Mycenae  and  the  seven 
hundred  Thespians,  who  declared  that  they  would 
not  desert  Leonidas.  There  were  also  four  hundred 
Thebans  who  remained;  and  thus  the  whole  num- 
ber that  stayed  with  Leonidas  to  confront  two 
millions  of  enemies,  were  fourteen  hundred  war- 
riors, besides  the  slaves  or  attendants  on  the  three 
hundred  Spartans,  whose  number  is  not  known, 
but  there  was  probably  at  least  one  to  each. 

Leonidas  had  two  kinsmen  in  the  camp,  like 
himself  claiming  the  blood  of  Hercules,  and  he 
tried  to  save  them  by  giving  them  letters  and 
messages  to  Sparta;  but  one  answered  that  he  had 
come  to  fight,  not  to  carry  letters;  and  the  other, 
that  his  deeds  would  tell  all  that  Sparta  wished 
to  know. 

Another  Spartan,  named  Dienices,  when  told  that 
the  enemy's  archers  were  so  numerous  that  their 
arrows  darkened  the  sun,  replied,  "So  much  tho 
better,  we  shall  fight  in  the  shade." 

Two  of  the  three  hundred  had  been  sent  to  a 
neighboring  village,  suffering  severely  from  a  com- 
plaint in  the  eyes.  One  of  them,  called  Eurytus, 
put  on  his  armor,  and  commanded  his  slave  to  lead 
him  to  his  place  in  the  ranks ;  the  other,  called  Aris- 
todemus,  was  so  overpowered  with  illness  that  he 
allowed  himself  to  be  carried  away  with  the  re- 
treating allies.  It  was  still  early  in  the  day  when 
all  were  gone,  and  Leonidas  gave  the  word  to  his 
men  to  take  their  last  meal.  "To-night,"  he  said, 
"we  shall  sup  with  Pluto." 

Hitherto,  he  had  stood  on  the  defensive,  and 
had  husbanded  the  lives  of  his  men ;  but  he  now 


FIFTH     READER.  461 

desired  to  make  as  great  a  slaughter  as  possible,  so 
as  to  inspire  tlie  enemy  with  dread  of  the  Grecian 
name.  He  therefore  marched  out  "beyond  the  wall, 
without  waiting  to  be  attacked,  and  the  battle 
began. 

The  Persian  captains  went  behind  their  wretched 
troops  and  scourged  them  on  to  the  fight  with 
whips!  Poor  wretches,  they  were  driven  on  to  be 
slaughtered,  pierced  with  the  Q-reek  spears,  hurled 
into  the  sea,  or  trampled  into  the  mud  of  the 
morass;  but  their  inexhaustible  numbers  told  at 
length.  The  spears  of  the  G-reeks  broke  under  hard 
service,  and  their  swords  alone  remained;  they 
began  to  fall,  and  Leonidas  himself  was  among  the 
first  of  the  slain. 

Hotter  than  ever  was  the  fight  over  his  corpse, 
and  two  Persian  princes,  brothers  of  Xerxes,  were 
there  killed ;  but  at  length  word  was  brought  that 
Hydarnes  was  over  the  pass,  and  that  the  few  re- 
maining men  were  thus  inclosed  on  all  sides. 

The  Spartans  and  Thespians  made  their  way  to 
a  little  hillock  within  the  wall,  resolved  to  let  this 
be  the  place  of  their  last  stand;  but  the  hearts  of 
the  Thebans  failed  them,  and  they  went  toward 
the  Persians  holding  out  their  hands  in  entreaty 
for  mercy.  Quarter  was  given  them,  but  they  were 
all  branded  with  the  king's  mark  as  untrustworthy 
deserters.  The  slaves  probably  at  this  time  escaped 
into  the  mountains ;  while  the  small  desperate  band 
stood  side  by  side  on  the  hill,  still  fighting  to  the 
last,  some  with  swords,  others  with  daggers,  others 
even  with  their  hands  and  teeth,  till  not  one  living 
man  remained  when  the  sun  went  down.  There 
was  only  tt  mound  of  slain  bristling  with  arrows. 


432  FIFTH     READER. 

Twenty  thousand  Persians  had  died  before  that 
handful  of  men!  Xerxes  asked  Demaratus  if  there 
were  many  more  at  Sparta  like  these,  and  was  told 
there  were  eight  thousand.  It  must  have  been  with 
a  somewhat  failing  heart  that  he  invited  his  cour- 
tiers from  the  fleet  to  see  what  he  had  done  to  the 
men  who  dared  oppose  him,  and  showed  them  the 
head  and  arm  of  Leonidas  set  up  upon  a  cross; 
but  he  took  care  that  all  his  own  slain,  except  one 
thousand,  should  first  be  put  out  of  sight. 

The  body  of  the  brave  king  was  buried  where 
he  fell,  as  were  those  of  the  other  dead.  Much 
envied  were  they  by  the  unhappy  Aristodemus,  who 
found  himself  called  by  no  name  but  the  "Coward,'" 
and  shunned  by  all  his  fellow-citizens.  No  one 
would  give  him  fire  or  water,  and  after  a  year  of 
misery,  he  redeemed  his  honor  by  perishing  in  the 
fore-front  of  the  battle  of  Platsea,  which  was  the 
last  blow  that  drove  the  Persians  ingloriously  from 
Greece. 

The  Greeks  then  united  in  doing  honor  to  the 
brave  warriors  who,  had  they  been  better  sup- 
ported, might  have  saved  the  whole  country  from 
invasion.  Pillars  were  set  up  in  the  pass  to  com- 
memorate this  great  action.  One  was  outside  the 
wall,  where  most  of  the  fighting  had  been.  It 
seems  to  have  been  in  honor  of  the  whole  number 
who  had  for  two  days  resisted  the  attacks  of  the 
Persians.  The  inscription  was  as  follows— 

"Here  did  four  thousand  men  from  Pelops'  land 
Against  three  hundred  myriads  "bravely  stand." 

In  honor  of  the  Spartans  was  another  column— 

"G-o,  traveler,  to  Sparta;   tell 
That  here,  obeying  her,  we  fell." 


FIFTH    READER.  4S3 

On  the  little  hillock  of  the  last  resistance  was 
placed  the  figure  of  a  stone  lion,  in  memory  of 
Leonidas,  so  fitly  named  the  Lion-like. 

Lion,  pillars,  and  inscriptions  have  all  long  since 
passed  away,  even  the  very  spot  itself  has  changed; 
new  soil  has  been  formed,  and  there  are  miles  of 
solid  ground  between  Mount  CEta  and  the  gulf,  so 
that  the  Hot  Q-ates  no  longer  exist.  But  more  en- 
during than  stone  or  "brass  — nay,  than  the  very 
"battle-field  itself— has  "been  the  name  of  Leonidas. 

Two  thousand  three  hundred  years  have  sped 
since  he  braced  himself  to  perish  for  his  country's 
sake  in  that  narrow,  marshy  coast-road,  under  the 
brow  of  the  wooded  crags,  with  the  sea  by  his 
side.  Since  that  time  how  many  hearts  have 
glowed,  how  many  arms  have  been  nerved  at  the 
remembrance  of  the  Pass  of  Thermopylae,  and  the 
defeat  that  was  worth  so  much  more  than  a  vic- 
tory ! 

CHARLOTTE  M.  YONGE. 


Elocution.  — The  slight  changes  of  pitch  occasioned  by  emphasis, 
inflection,  and  pauses,  render  reading  agreeable.  A  rapid  utter- 
.ance  is  unpleasant  both  on  account  of  the  difficulty  of  under- 
standing what  is  spoken,  and  the  monotony  occasioned  by  the 
absence  of  any  variations  in  sound. 

monotonous  reading  may  be  corrected  by  cultivating  a  more 
deliberate  manner  of  speaking  and  by  strict  attention  to  empha- 
sis and  inflection. 

Point  out  the  inflections  used  in  reading  the  last  paragraph. 

Language.  — Explain  the  difference  in  the  meaning  of  the  fol- 
lowing words  :  — strong,  powerful,  vigorous. 

Composition.  —  Select  eight  or  more  parts  for  an  analysis  of 
Lessons  98  and  99,  and  show  that  their  treatment  would  include 
all  the  chief  points  of  "The  Battle  of  Thermopylae." 

Give  rules  for  the  marks  of  punctuation  employed  in  the  third 
paragraph. 


4S4  FIFTH    READER. 


/00.—THE     RAVEN. 


reT  e  van  9y,  fitness  ;   suitable- 


ness. 
s£r'  a  phlm  (f im),  angels  of  tJie 

de  -co'  rum,  dignity. 
de'  mon,  an  evil  spirit. 
m\en  (meen),  look;  appearance. 


,  knowledge;  wisdom. 
sur  96^3^',  cessation;  stop. 


ne  pen' the,  an  Egyptian  drug 
which  lulled  sorrow  for  the  day. 


Once  upon  a  midnight  dreary,  while  I  pondered,  -weak  and  weary, 
Over  many  a  quaint  and  curious  volume  of  forgotten  lore,— 
While  I  nodded,  nearly  napping,  suddenly  there  came  a  tapping, 
As  of  some  one  gently  rapping,  rapping  at  my  chamber  door. 
"'Tis  some  visitor,"   I  muttered,    "tapping  at  my  chamber  door- 
Only  this,  and  nothing  more." 

Ah,  distinctly  I  remember,   it  was  in  the  bleak  December, 
And  each  separate  dying  ember  wrought  its  ghost  upon  the  floor 
Eagerly  I  wished  the  morrow :  vainly  I  had  sought  to  borrow 
From  my  books  surcease  of  sorrow — sorrow  for  the  lost  Lenore  — 
For  the  rare  and  radiant  maiden  whom  the  angels  name  Lenore  — 
Nameless  here  for  evermore. 

And  the  silken,  sad,  uncertain  rustling  of  each  purple  curtain 
Thrilled  me  — filled  me  -with  fantastic  terrors  never  felt  before; 
So  that  now,  to  still  the  beating  of  my  heart,  I  stood  repeating. 
"'Tis  some  visitor  entreating  entrance  at  my  chamber  door,— 
Some  late  visitor  entreating  entrance  at  my  chamber  door; 
That  rfe  is,  and  nothing  more." 

Presently  my  soul  grew  stronger;  hesitating  then  no  longer, 
"Sir,"  said  I,    "or  madam,  truly  your  forgiveness  I  implore; 
But  the  fact  is,  I  was  napping,  and  so  gently  you  came  rapping, 
And  so  faintly  you  came   tapping,  tapping  at  my  chamber  door, 
That    I    scarce   was   sure   I   heard   you"— here   I   opened   wide  the 
door : 

Darkness  there,   and  nothing  more. 


FIFTH    READER.  455 

Deep  into  that   darkness  peering,   long  I  stood,  there,   wondering, 
fearing, 

Doubting,  dreaming  dreams  no  mortal  ever   dared  to   dream  be- 
fore; 

But  the  silence  was  unbroken,  and  the  stillness  gave  no  token, 

And  the  only  word  there  spoken  was  the  whispered  word,   "Le- 
nore  ! " 

This  I  whispered,  and  an  echo  murmured  back  the  word,   ' '  Le- 
nore  ! " 

Merely  this,  and  nothing  more. 

Back  into  the  chamber  turning,  all  my  soul  within  me  burning, 
Soon  again  I  heard  a  tapping,   somewhat  louder  than  before. 
"Surely,"  said  I,   "surely  that  is  something  at  my  window  lat- 
tice; 

Let  me  see  then  what  thereat  is,  and  this  mystery  explore, - 

Let  my  heart  be  still  a  moment,  and  this  mystery  explore  ;— 

'Tis  the  wind,  and  nothing  more." 

Open   here    I   flung   the    shutter,    when,    with    many   a   flirt    and 

flutter, 

In  there  stepped  a  stately  raven  of  the  saintly  days  of  yore. 
Not  the  least  obeisance  made  he ;   not  a  minute  stopped  or  stayed 

he; 

But,  with  mien  of  lord  or  lady,  perched  above  my  chamber  door,— 
Perched  upon  a  bust  of  Pallas,  just  above  my  chamber  door  — 
Perched  and  sat,  and  nothing  more. 

Then  this  ebony  bird  beguiling  my  sad  fancy  into  smiling, 
By  the  grave  and  stern  decorum  of  the  countenance  it  wore, 
"Though  thy  crest  be  shorn  and  shaven,  thou,"  I  said,  "art  sure 

no  craven ; 
Ghastly,  grim,  and  ancient  raven,  wandering   from  the   nightly 

shore, 

Tell  me  what  thy  lordly  name  is  on  the  Night's  Plutonian  shore  ?  " 
Quoth  the  raven,    "Nevermore!" 

Much  I  marveled  this  ungainly  fowl  to  hear  discourse  so  plainly, 
Though  its  answer  little  meaning  —  little  relevancy  bore; 


456  FIFTH    READER. 

For  we  can  not  help  agreeing  that  no  living  human  being 
Ever  yet  was  blessed  with  seeing  bird  above  his  chamber  door- 
Bird  or  beast  upon  the  sculptured  bust  above  his  chamber  door, 
"With  such  name  as  "Nevermore!" 

But  the  raven  sitting  lonely  on  the  placid  bust,  spoke  only 
That  one  word,  as  if  his  soul  in  that  one  word  he  did  outpou-B. 
Nothing  further  then  he  uttered— not  a  feather  then  he  fluttered— 
Till  I  scarcely  more  than  muttered,    "Other  friends  have   flown 

before  — 

On  the  morrow  he  will  leave  me,  as  my  hopes  have  flown  before." 
Then  the  bird  said,    "Nevermore!" 

Startled  at  the  stillness,  broken  by  reply  so  aptly  spoken, 
"Doubtless,"  said  I,  "what  it  utters  is  its  only  stock  and  store, 
Caught  from  some  unhappy  master,  whom  unmerciful  disaster 
Followed  fast  and  followed  faster,  till  his  songs  one  burden  bore,— 
Till  the  dirges  of  his  hope  that  melancholy  burden  bore, 
Of— Never— Nevermore  I" 

But  the  raven  still  beguiling  all  my  sad  soul  into  smiling, 
Straight  I  wheeled  a  cushioned   seat  in   front  of  bird,    and   bust, 

and  door ; 

Then,  upon  the  velvet  sinking,  I  betook  myself  to  linking 
Fancy  unto  fancy,  thinking  what  this  ominous  bird  of  yore— 
What  this  grim,   ungainly,   ghastly,   gaunt,   and  ominous  bird  of 

yore 

Meant  in  croaking  "Nevermore!" 

This  I  sat  engaged  in  guessing,  but  no  syllable  expressing 
To  the  fowl,  whose  fiery  eyes  now  burned  into  my  bosom's  core ; 
This  and  more  I  sat  divining,  with  my  head  at  ease  reclining 
On  the  cushion's  velvet  lining  that  the  lamp-light  gloated  o'er, 
But  whose  velvet, violet  lining,  with  the  lamp-light  gloating  o'er, 
She  shall  press— ah!  nevermore! 

Then  methought  the  air  grew  denser,   perfumed  from  an  unseen 

censer 

Swung  by  seraphim,  whose  foot-falls  tinkled  on  the  tufted  floor. 
"Wretch,"  I  cried,  "thy  God  hath  lent  thee— by  these  angels  he 

hath  sent  thee 


FIFTH    READER.  457 

Respite— respite  and  nepenthe  from  thy  memories  of  Lenore! 
Quaff,    O    quaff   this  kind  nepenthe,  and  forget  this  lost  Lenore  ! " 
Quoth  the  raven,  "Nevermore!" 

"  Prophet  1"    said    I,    "thing    of   evil !  — prophet    still,    if   bird    or 

devil ! 
"Whether    tempter    sent,    or    whether    tempest    tossed    thee    here 

ashore, 

Desolate,  yet  all  undaunted,  on  this  desert  land  enchanted  — 
Orx  this  home  by  Horror  haunted— tell  me  truly,  I  implore  — 
Is  there— is  there  balm  in  Gilead?  — tell  me  — tell  me,  I  implore  1" 
Quoth  the  raven,  "Nevermore!" 

"Prophet!"    said    I,    "thing    of    evil!  —  prophet     still,   if   bird   or 

devil ! 

By  that  heaven  that  bends  above  us  —  by  that  God  we  both  adore, 
Tell  this  soul,  with  sorrow  laden,  if,  within  the  distant  Aidenn,N 
It  shall  clasp  a  sainted  maiden,  whom  the  angels  name  Lenore ; 
Clasp  a  rare  and  radiant  maiden,  whom  the  angels  name  Lenore  ! " 
Quoth  the  raven,  "Nevermore!" 

"Be  that  word   our   sign   of  parting,  bird  or  fiend!"   I  shrieked, 

upstarting— 
"Get    thee    back    into    the    tempest    and    the    Night's    Plutonian 

shore  ! 

Leave  no  black  plume  as  a  token  of  that  lie  thy  soul  hath  spoken! 
Leave  my  loneliness  unbroken !  —  quit  the  bust  above  my  door ! 
Take  thy  beak  from  out  my  heart,  and  take  thy  form  from  off 

my  door ! " 

Quoth  the  raven,  "Nevermore!" 

And  the  raven,  never  flitting,   still  is  sitting,   still   is  sitting 
On  the  pallid  bust  of  Pallas,  just  above  my  chamber  door ; 
And  his  eyes  have  all  the  seeming  of  a  demon's  that  is  dreaming, 
And   the   lamp-light   o'er   him    streaming  throws   his   shadow  on 

the  floor ; 

And  my   soul   from   out   that  shadow  that  lies   floating  on    the 
floor 

Shall  be  lifted  —NEVERMORE  ! 

EDGAR  A.   POE. 


4S8  FIFTH     READER. 


Biography.  —  Edgar  Allan  Poe  was  born  in  Boston,  February 
19th,  1809,  and  died  in  Baltimore  in  1849. 

At  an  early  age,  he  -was  adopted  by  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Allan,  and 
attended  school  in  England.  Returning  to  America  in  1822,  he 
finished  his  school-days  in  Richmond,  Virginia,  and  then  con- 
tinued his  studies  at  the  University  of  Charlottesville.  He  pub- 
lished a  small  volume  of  his  poems  in  1829,  which  was  well  re- 
ceived. From  that  time,  Poe  made  a  number  of  attempts  to  gain 
a  livelihood  as  an  editor,  all  of  which  proved  unsuccessful  on 
account  of  his  unfortunate  temperament  and  his  dissolute  habits. 
He  died  in  Baltimore  at  the, early  age  of  forty. 

The  wonderful  music  of  his  verses  and  the  originality  of  his 
style,  have  given  Poe  a  high  place  among  poets.  The  "Raven" 
and  the  ' '  Bells "  are  two  of  his  most  popular  pieces.  His  prose 
writings  are  remarkable  for  their  weird  character  and  for  a 
gloominess  of  sentiment  that  impresses  the  reader  unfavorably. 

Notes.  — Aidenn  (a' den)  is  an  Anglicized  spelling  of  the  Arabic 
form  of  the  word  Eden,  and  refers  to  Paradise,  the  place  where 
spirits  dwell  after  death. 

Elocution.  — What  is  the  general  sentiment  of  the  poem?  What 
then  should  be  the  manner  of  reading  it? 

What  words  are  emphatic  in  the  first  stanza? 

The  dash  used  in  the  last  line  of  the  poem  is  to  mark  a  long 
pause  for  the  purpose  of  making  the  following  word  very  em- 
phatic. 

Mark  the  caesura  in  the  fourth  stanza. 

Notice  the  effect  of  the  rhyme  at  the  middle  and  end  of  the 
first  and  third  lines  of  each  stanza. 

Language.  — What  is  the  meaning  of  the  words— "the  pallid 
bust  of  Pallas"? 


FIFTH     READER.  439 


GOLD    DUST. 

Why  are  not  more  gems  from  our  great  authors  scattered  over 
the  country  ?  Great  books  are  not  in  every  body's  reach ;  and 
though  it  is  better  to  know  them  thoroughly  than  to  know  them 
only  here  and  there,  yet  it  is  a  good  work  to  give  a  little  to 
those  who  have  neither  time  nor  means  to  get  more.  Let  every 
bookworm,  when  in  any  fragrant,  scarce  old  tome  he  discovers 
a  sentence,  an  illustration,  that  does  his  heart  good,  hasten  to 

give  it. 

COLERIDGE. 

The  evil  that  men  do  lives  after  them ; 
The  good  is  oft  interred  with  their  bones. 

SHAKSPEARE. 

Delightful  task !  to  rear  the  tender  thought, 
To  teach  the  young  idea  how  to  shoot; 
To  pour  the  fresh  instruction  o'er  the  mind, 
To  breathe  the  enlivening  spirit,  and  to  fix 
The  generous  purpose  in  the  glowing  breast. 

THOMSON. 

Sin  has  many  tools,  but  a  lie  is  a  handle  which  fits  them  all. 

HOLMES. 

It  is  not  work  that  kills  men ;  it  is  worry.  Work  is  healthy ; 
you  can  hardly  put  more  upon  a  man  than  he  can  bear.  Worry 
is  rust  upon  the  blade.  It  is  not  the  revolution  that  destroys 

the  machinery,  but  the  friction. 

BEECHEB. 

Aim  at  perfection  in  every  thing,  though  in  most  things  it  is 
unattainable ;  however,  they  who  aim  at  it,  and  persevere,  will 
come  much  nearer  to  it  than  those  whose  laziness  and  despond- 
ency make  them  give  it  up  as  unattainable. 

CHESTERFIELD. 

Truth  crushed  to  earth  shall  rise  again, 

The  eternal  years  of  God  are  hers ; 
But  error,  wounded,  writhes  in  pain, 

And  dies  among  his  worshipers. 

BRYANT. 

The  ornaments  of  a  home  are  the  friends  who  frequent  it. 


If  you  can  be  well  without  health,  you  can  be  happy  without 
virtue. 

BUBKE. 


46O  FIFTH    READER. 


The  Sabbath  is  the  golden  clasp  which  binds  together  the 
volume  of  the  week. 

LONGFELLOW. 

Words  are  things;  and  a  small  drop  of  ink,  falling  like  dew 
upon  a  thought,  produces  that  which  makes  thousands,  perhaps 
millions,  think. 

BTBON. 

The  night  is  mother  of  the  day, 

The  winter  of  the  spring, 
And  ever  upon  old  decay 

The  greenest  mosses  cling. 
Behind  the  cloud  the  starlight  lurks, 

Through  showers  the  sunbeams  fall; 
For  God,  who  loveth  all  His  -works, 

Has  left  His  hope  with  all. 

WHITTIEK. 

Books  are  the  true  levelers.  They  give  to  all  who  faithfully 
use  them,  the  society,  the  spiritual  presence  of  the  best  and 

greatest  of  our  race. 

CHANNING. 

Whoever  can  make  two  ears  of  corn,  or  two  blades  of  grass 
to  grow  upon  a  spot  of  ground  where  only  one  grew  before, 
would  deserve  better  of  mankind  and  do  more  essential  service 
to  his  country  than  the  whole  race  of  politicians  put  together. 

SWIFT. 

Howe'er  it  be,  it  seems  to  me 

'Tis  only  noble  to  be  good: 
Kind  hearts  are  more  than  coronets, 

And  simple  faith  than  Norman  blood. 

TENNYSON. 

There  is  a  time  in  every  man's  education  when  he  arrives  at 
the  conviction  that  envy  is  ignorance  ;  that  imitation  is  suicide ; 
that  he  must  take  himself  for  better  or  for  worse,  as  his  por- 
tion ;  that,  though  the  wide  universe  is  full  of  good,  no  kernel 
of  nourishing  corn  can  come  to  him  but  through  his  toil  be- 
stowed on  that  plot  of  ground  which  is  given  him  to  till. 


Words  learned  by  rote  a  parrot  may  rehearse. 
But  talking  is  not  always  to  converse ; 
~Not  more  distinct  from  harmony  divine 
The  constant  creaking  of  a  country  sign. 


COWPEB. 


FIFTH     READER.  461 


The  base  wretch  who  hoards  up  all  he  can 
Is  praised  and  called  a  careful,  thrifty  man. 

DRYDEH,, 

Spake  full  well,  in  language  quaint  and  olden, 
One  who  dwelleth  by  the  castled  Rhine, 

When  he  called  the  flowers,  so  blue  and  golden, 
Stars,  that  in  earth's  firmament  do  shine. 

LONGFELLOW. 

'Tis  an  old  maxim  in  the  schools, 
That  flattery's  the  food  of  fools, 
Yet  now  and  then  you  men  of  wit 
Will  condescend  to  take  a  bit. 


SCOTT. 


Some  men  are  very  entertaining  for  a  first  interview,  but 
after  that  they  are  exhausted  and  run  out ;  on  a  second  inter- 
view we  shall  find  them  very  flat  and  monotonous;  like  hand- 
organs,  we  have  heard  all  their  tunes. 

COLTON. 

O  many  a  shaft  at  random  sent 

Finds  mark  the  archer  little  meant, 

And  many  a  word  at  random  spoken 

May  soothe  or  wound  a  heart  that's  broken. 

There  is  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of  men, 

Which,  taken  at  the   flood,  leads  on  to  fortune ; 

Omitted,  all  the  voyage  of  their  life 

Is  bound  in  shallows  and  in  miseries ; 

And  we  must  take  the  current  when  it  serves, 

Or  lose  our  ventures. 

SHAKSPEARE. 

Sloth  makes  all  things  difficult,  but  Industry  all  easy ;  and 
he  that  riseth  late  must  trot  all  day,  and  shall  scarce  overtake 
his  business  at  night ;  while  Laziness  travels  so  slowly,  that 

Poverty  soon  overtakes  him. 

FRANKLIN. 

Good  name,  in  man  or  woman, 

Is  the  immediate  jewel  of  their  souls. 

Who  steals  my  purse,   steals  trash  ;    'tis  something,   nothing ; 

'Twas  mine,  'tis  his,  and  has  been  slave  to  thousands: 

But  he  that  filches  from  me  my  good  name, 

Robs  me  of  that  which  not  enriches  him, 

And  makes  me  poor   indeed. 

SHAKSFEARB. 


462  FIFTH     READER. 


Absence  of  occupation  is  not  rest ; 

A  mind  quite  vacant  is  a  mind  distressed. 

COWPER. 

Write  on  your  doors  the  saying  wise  and  old, 

"Be  bold!     Be  bold!"  and  every- where— "Be  bold; 

Be  not  too  bold ! "     Yet  better  the  excess 

Than  the  defect ;   better  the  more  than  less ; 

Better  like  Hector  on  the  field  to  die, 

Than  like  a  perfumed  Paris  turn  and  fly. 

LONGFELLOW. 

Except  a  living  man  there  is  nothing  more  wonderful  than  a 
book!— a  message  to  us  from  the  dead  — from  human  souls  whom 
we  never  saw,  who  lived,  perhaps,  thousands  of  miles  away ;  and 
yet  these,  in  those  little  sheets  of  paper,  speak  to  us,  amuse  us, 
terrify  us,  teach  us,  comfort  us,  open  their  hearts  to  us  as 
brothers. 

KINGSLEY. 

Our  doubts  are  traitors, 

And  make  us  lose  the  good  we  oft  might  -win, 

By  fearing  to  attempt. 

SHAKSPEABE. 

Give  us,  O  give  us,  the  man  who  sings  at  his  work  !  Be  his 
occupation  what  it  may,  he  is  equal  to  any  of  those  who  follow 
the  same  pursuit  in  silent  sullenness.  He  will  do  more  in  the 
same  time,  he  will  do  it  better,  he  will  persevere  longer.  One  is 
scarcely  sensible  of  fatigue  whilst  he  marches  to  music.  The 
very  stars  are  said  to  make  harmony  as  they  revolve  in  their 
spheres.  "Wondrous  is  the  strength  of  cheerfulness,  altogether 
past  calculation  its  powers  of  endurance.  Efforts,  to  be  perma- 
nently useful,  must  be  uniformly  joyous,  a  spirit  all  sunshine, 
graceful  from  very  gladness,  beautiful  because  bright. 

THOMAS  CABLYLE. 

Education,  briefly,  is  the  leading  of  human  souls  to  what  is 
best,  and  making  what  is  best  out  of  them  ;  and  these  two  ob- 
jects are  always  attainable  together,  and  by  the  same  means ; 
the  training  "which  makes  men  happiest  in  themselves,  also 

makes  them  most  serviceable  to  others. 

JOHN  EUSKIN. 

Many  men  do  not  allow  their  principles  to  take  root,  but  pull 
them  up  every  now  and  then,  as  children  do  flowers  they  have 

planted,  to  see  if  they  are  growing. 

LONGFELLOW. 


EFINITIONS 


OF    NEW  WORDS   USED   IN   THIS  BOOK,  THAT   DO  NOT  APPEAR 
AT  THE   HEADS  OF  THE  LESSONS, 


A 

a  bTdV>  remain  ;  stay. 
abstird'ly,  foolishly;  inconsist- 


a  €a'ei  a  (a  ka'shi  a),  a  tropical 
shrub. 

a  -ead'e  my,  a  school  of  high 
grade;  an  institution  for  the 
promotion  of  the  fine  arts. 

a  dt^u',  good-by  ;  farewell. 

a  d  j  u  £i  g  ^d ',  decreed  ;  awarded  ; 
determined. 

ad'  mi  ra  bl^,  excellent;  worthy 
of  admiration. 

ad'vers^,  acting  against;  oppos- 
ing. 

ag'i  ta'ted,  disturbed;  excited. 

a  glo^v',  glowing ;  heated. 

^1^1^,  a  passage  in  a  church. 

a  lael^:',  an  exclamation  of  sorrow. 

al'pen  st6«l$:,  a  staff  used  in 
traveling  among  the  Alps. 

a  lu'mi  ntim,  a  white  metal  with 
a  bluish  tinge. 

am'mu  ni'tion  (am  mu  nish'- 
un),  materials  for  charging  fire- 
arms. 


and' I  ron§  (rtirnz),  utensils  for 
supporting  wood  in  a  fire-place. 

an  i  ma'tion,  liveliness;  ardor; 
vigor. 

an  noy^d',  disturbed ;  molested. 

an'nu  al,  yearly;  occurring  once 
a  year. 

a  n6nr,  in  a  short  time ;  quickly. 

anr  te  lop^,  an  animal  resembling 
the  deer. 

an'ti-es,  odd  actions  or  gesticula- 
tions. 

anxtl  mo  ny,  a  brittle  metal  of  a 
silvery  white  color. 

an'  vil§,  iron  blocks  upon  which 
metals  are  hammered. 

ap  prl§^d',  informed;  gave  no- 
tice. 

arched,  curved. 

arch'er,  one  who  shoots  with  a 
bow  and  arrow. 

ar'  id,  dry  ;  parched  with  heat. 

ar'ma  ment,  a  force  equipped 
for  war. 

ar'mor,  defensive  clothing  made 
of  metal. 

ar  til'  ler  y,  cannon \;  great  guns. 


464 


FIFTH     READER. 


simple  in  manners;  hon- 
est. 
as  plr'ants,  those  who  seek  or 


asps,  smaU  poisonous  serpents. 

as  saving,  testing  ore  to  deter- 
mine the  amount  of  a  particular 
metal  in  it. 

as  s£m'  bly,  a  company  of  per- 
sons. 

as  so'ci  at^s  (shi  ats),  compan- 
'ions;  mates. 

as  tr6n'  o  mer§,  those  skilled  in 
a  knowledge  of  the  heavenly 
bodies. 

a  sy'lum,  a  place  of  retreat  and 
security. 

ath'  let^s,  wrestlers;  those  who  en- 
gage in  muscular  exercise. 

at'  om,  a  minute  particle. 

attend' ant,  one  who  accompa- 
nies. 

at  tlr^d',  dressed;  arrayed. 

art^'di  en  9^,  an  assembly  of  hear- 
ers. 

at^^t,  any  thing. 

at^  th6r/i  ty,  legal  or  rightful 


a  vaV,  benefit;  assist  or  aid. 
a  ve"ngV>   vindicate    by  punish- 
ment. 


bag'  gag^,  tents,  clothing,  and 
other  necessaries  of  an  army ; 
trunks,  valises,  etc.,  carried  by 
travelers. 

bak^,  an  expression  of  contempt. 

bald,  destitute  of  hair;  unadorned. 


bal  loons./  bags  filled  with  gas  or 
hot  air,  so  as  to  float  in  the  at- 
mosphere. 

ba\m,  any  thing  which  heals  or 
soothes;  a  plant. 

bar  ba'ri  an^uncimlized  persons. 

barg^,  a  boat  for  the  conveyance 
of  passengers  or  goods. 

bark,  the  rind  of  a  tree;  a  kind 
of  vessel;  the  noise  of  a  dog. 

bar'  ra-el^s,  buildings  to  lodge  sol- 
diers; huts;  cabins. 

bar'ri  er,  obstruction;  bound- 
ary. 

bar'ter^d,  exchanged;  gave  in 
exchange. 

basement,  the  lower  story  of  a 
building. 

bask,  lie  in  warmth;   exposed  to 


bat  tar  ion§  (yting),  divisions  of 
the  infantry  in  an  army. 

bat"  ter  i^§,  bodies  of  cannon, 
used  for  attack  or  defense. 

be -com' ing,  appropriate;  suit- 
able. 

be^r  tl^s.,  insects  having  horny 
wing-covers. 

be  fe^th'  er^d,  covered  with 
feathers. 

be  g^Il'ing,  deluding  by  artifice 
or  craft. 

be  hav'ior  (hav'yiir),  conduct; 
deportment. 

be  sto^V^d',  applied;  imparted. 

be'  t^l,  a  species  of  pepper,  the 
leaves  of  which  are  chewed  by 
the  inhabitants  of  the  East 
Indies. 


FIFTH    READER. 


465 


be  wlg^d',  furnished  or  COD-. 
ered  with  a  wig. 

bid^,  stay ;  remain. 

b\er,  a  frame-work  used  for  carry- 
ing the  dead. 

bl&^t,  a  bend  in  the  sea-coast. 

bland,  mild;  gentle;  courteous. 

ble^k,  cold;  cheerless. 

bll^l^t,  any  thing  nipping  or  bit- 
ing;  to  injure  by  blight. 

blis^'  ful,  full  of  joy  or  happiness. 

blun'der  busi^  a  short  gun  with 
a  large  bore;  a  blunderer. 

bois'ter  §us,  loud;  noisy;  stormy. 

bow'er  (bou'er),  an  anchor  car- 
ried at  the  bow  of  a  ship  ;  a  shady 
recess. 

-l^nlf  ^,  a  long  knife  used 
as  a  weapon. 

der§,  large  stones, or  masses 
ofrock. 

bra'£e§,  the  ropes  rove  through 
blocks  at  the  ends  of  yards  on  a 
vessel;  props;  supports. 

bra§'  gart,  a  boaster. 

bran'dy,  a  spirituous  liquor. 

bracing,  making  a  Jiarsh  noise. 

bra'zen,  made  of  brass. 

brSd,  trained;  instructed;  edu- 
cated. 

bribed,  corrupted  by  a  reward. 

brid'al,  pertaining  to  a  bride,  or 
to  a  wedding. 

bronz^,  a  metal  composed  of  tin 
and  copper. 

brood,  the  number  hatched  at 
once. 

bro\v§^,  feed  on  tender  branches 
or  shrubs. 


bru'tal,  cruel;  savage. 

bu-eV  ler§,  pieces  of  defensive  ar- 
mor. 

bulb,  an  expansion  or  protuber- 
ance on  a  stem,  as  on  a  retort  or 
thermometer. 

bul\'  y ,  quarrelsome  per  son;  noisy, 
blustering  fellow. 

blimp'  er§,  drinking  glasses  filled 
to  the  brim. 

bust,  the  upper  part  of  the  human 
figure,  including  the  head,  shoul- 
ders, and  breast. 

buz'  zardg,  birds  of  prey. 

C 

•ea'  bl^,  a  large  rope  or  chain. 
•ea-e'tus,  a  very  prickly  tropical 

plant. 
•ea  lam'i  ty,  accident ;  mishap; 


•ea  pa9xi  ty,  ability ;  talent. 

cap'torg,  those  who  capture. 

•ear/di  nal,  principal;  chief;  as, 
the  cardinal  points. 

•ear/ol,  the  song  of  a  bird;  a  song 
ofjoy. 

•eas'sa  va,  a  tropical  plant  from 
which  tapioca  is  made. 

•eat' a  16gt^,  list;  register. 

•ea  the'dralg,  large  churches. 

•ea^'ti^us  (shus),  careful;  pru- 
dent. 

•eav'a  ri,er',  an  armed  horseman ; 
a  knight. 

5eV^d,  had  the  ceiXing  covered. 

9eTe  bra'  ted,  well-known;  dis* 


chafes,  wears  by  action. 


466 


FIFTH    READER. 


,  a  two-wheeled  carriage. 

char'  i  ots,  ancient  vehicles  or  war 
cars. 

char'  i  ta  bl^,  intended  for  char- 
ity ;  benevolent. 

chast^,  pure. 

-el^m'i-e  al§,  substances  used  for 
chemical,  effects. 

ch\ef  t^in,  a  commander  or 
leader. 

chl§'el&d,  cut ;  engraved. 

chor^§,  small  jobs  of  work. 

9in  -el^o'na,  a  Peruvian  tree,  and 
its  bark. 

•clad,  clothed. 

•elam'or,  noise  of  the  voice;  out- 
cry. 

•clash' ing,  striking  together  with 
noise;  interfering. 

•elSft,  split  open  or  off;  riven. 

•elim^,  climate. 

•e!6d,  mass  of  earth  or  turf. 

•elii\ch,  gripe;  power. 

-co' bra,  a  poisonous  serpent. 

•eo  lo'ni  al,  belonging  or  pertain- 
ing to  colonies. 

•e6m'bat,  a  struggle;  contest  by 
force. 

•com  mer'cial  (shal),  pertain- 
ing to  commerce  or  trade  ;  mer- 
cantile. 

•com  mls'sion  (mish'iin),  cer- 
tificate of  rank. 

•com  mlt'  te^,  a  number  of  per- 
sons appointed  to  manage  any 
matter. 

•com  par' a  tlv^  ly,  relatively. 

•com  plaint',  expression  of  cen- 
sure or  regret. 


•com  plSx'  ion  (plek'sMn),  color 
or  hue  of  the  skin,  especially  of 
the  face. 

•com  p  ll'an  5^,  act  of  complying; 
concession. 

•eSm'pli  ment,  expression  ofviv- 


,  companion;  associate. 

•e6n,  study  over. 

•eon  du-et/,  lead;  guide;  escort. 

•con  fSsi^'org,  those  who  confess. 

•eon  found',  mix;  perplex. 

•eon  sent'ed,  gave  assent;  com- 
plied. 

•eon  sti  tu/ted,  made  up;  estab- 
lished ;  formed. 

•eon  sum^,  destroy,  as  by  fire ; 
expend;  waste. 

•eon  tSnd'ing,  struggling;  striv- 
ing. 

•eon  trol',  direction;  command. 

•eon  ve&'  (konvar),  carry;  trans- 
port; transmit. 

•cord'  ag^,  any  thing  made  of  rope 
or  cord. 

•eorps^,  the  dead  body  of  a  human 


•eor'sa^rg,  pirates. 
•eors^'lets,  light  breast-plates. 
•eouch'  e§,  places  for  rest  or  sleep. 
•eoun'sel,  advice;  opinion;  one 

who  gives  advice. 
•eoun'te  nan9^,  the  expression 

of  the  face. 
•e^u  ra'g^us  (kura'jus),  brave; 

daring. 

•eo V  ri  er,  a  messenger. 
•eo^rt/iersg  (yer§),  members  of  a 

princely  court. 


FIFTH    READER. 


467 


' 1  y ,  court-like  ;  high  bred  ; 
dignified. 

,  a  bay  or  inlet. 

•eow'ard  \qfa,  lack  of  courage. 

•e6x'-eom1^,  a  vain,  showy  fellow; 
afop. 

•era ft,  handiwork. 

•erag§,  rough,  steep  rocks. 

«  ramped,  restrained  from  free 
action. 

•erav^,  entreat. 

•ere  at^',  to  form  out  of  nothing  ; 
cause  to  exist. 

•er£d'  it  or§,  those  to  wlwm  money 
is  due. 

•erSv'i  9e§,  narrow  openings;  fis- 
sures; clefts. 

•erfnk'l^s.,  wrinkles. 

•eri'sis,  decisive  moment;  turning 
point. 

•erit'i-e  al,  dangerous. 

•eroe'o  dil^,  an  animal  of  the 
lizard  tribe  ;  an  alligator. 

•er6s$/-ques'tion,  cross-exam- 
ine. 

•eru'9i  bl^,  a  chemical  vessel  or 
melting-pot. 

•erud^,  in  its  natural  state  ;  unre- 
fined; unfinished. 

•eu-e\'6o,  a  bird  which  derives  its 
name  from  the  note  it  utters. 

•eftrb,  bend  to  one's  will;  restrain; 
confine. 

•eus'  torn  a  ry,  usual;  according 
to  custom. 

D 

da"vn'ty,  over-nice;  hard  to  please. 
dan'  gl^  (dang'gl),  hang  loosely. 


da^nt'ed,  checked  by  fear. 

da^m,  begin  to  appear. 

de  £e^s^d',  dead. 

de  fSnd'ant,  one  who  defends. 

de  f  i^d",  challenged;  dared. 

dexi  ty,  God. 

d£l"i  -ea  91^5,  those  things  pleas- 
ing to  the  senses,  especially  that 
of  taste. 

de  irci^tts  (Hsh'us)  most  agree- 
able to  the  taste. 

de"  m  o  ^rat'i-e, pertaining  to  gov- 
ernment by  the  people. 

dgp'tt  ti^§,  assistants. 

de  si^n'  (or  de  §»gn'),  purpose. 

de  glr'isjus,  anxious. 

deVo  lat  ing,  destroying. 

de  spi§^',  scorn;  disdain. 

de  splt^,  in  spite  of. 

de  sp6ndx  en  9y, permanent  dis- 
couragement. 

des  p6t'  i-e,  absolute  in  power. 

des'ti  tut^,  deficient;  lacking. 

de  ta\n^d',  kept  back. 

de'  vi  &.'  tion,  turning  aside. 

de  vot'  ed,  applied  ;  gave  up  to. 

dll'i  gent  ly,  carefully. 

dlr^,  dreadful. 

dis  band'  ing,  dispersing;  break- 
ing up. 

dis  charg^',  release  from  duty. 

dis  closed',  made  known. 

dls'-eord,  dissension. 

dis -efts !§',  debate;  examine. 

dig  da^n^d',  despised;  scorned. 

dis  gra9V>  dishonor. 

dis  mast'ed,  deprived  of  masts. 

dis  patch',  message. 

dis  pdll^d',  banished;  drove  away. 


468 


FIFTH    READER. 


dis  persV,  scatter. 

dis  plt'e  fcjtts,  having  no  pity. 

dis  po  gl'tion  (zish'un),  manner 
of  being  disposed. 

dis  tll\§,  falls  in  drops. 

dis  tln'guish^d  (gwTsht),  cele- 
brated. 

d!  vert'  ed,  turned  aside. 

dl  vln'  i  ty,  state  of  being  divine. 

dc>el£,  wharf. 

ddl'phins.  (fing),  kind  offish. 

doomed,  destined. 

d^tib'let,  a  waistcoat  or  vest. 

doz^d,  slept. 

drag'ons.,  f obvious  winged  ser- 
pents. 

dron'ing,  moving  slowly;  living 


du'ra  bl^,  lasting. 
du'ri  o,  a  Malay  fruit  tree. 
dwln'dl^,  become  less;  diminish. 
dy^s.,  colors. 

E 

eVglets,  young  eagles. 

e^rl,  a  nobleman. 

e^r'nest,  a  pledge;  a  promise. 

£b'  o  ny,  a  hard  wood  from  Mad- 

agascar and  Ceylon. 
&e'sta  sy,  excessive  joy  ;  rapture. 


in  a  circular  direction;  whirl- 

pools. 
ef  fg-ef  u  al  ly,  producing  the  de- 

sired effect. 
Sf  '  fi  &y,  a  likeness  in  sculpture, 

painting,  or  drawing. 
e  IS-e'tri-e  al,  occasioned  by,  or 

pertaining  to,  electricity. 


eTo  quent    (kwent\    expressed 

with  fluency  and  power. 
em  barked',  went  on  board  a 


gm'ber,  a  lighted  coal  smolder- 
ing in  ashes. 

gm'blem§,  types;  signs;  sym- 
bols. 

en  9ir/-el^d,  formed  a  ring  or 
circle  about. 

en  -e&m'  bran9^,  that  which 
hinders  or  burdens. 

£n  de^v'or  ing,  attempting;  try- 
ing. 

en  su^d',  succeeded;  followed  as  a 
consequence. 

entan'gl^d  (tang'gld)  twisted 
or  caught. 

en  tre^t',  make  an  earnest  re- 


,  solution  in  spirits  of 
an  essential  oil;  as,  essence  of 
mint. 

gs  se"n'  tial  (shal),  absolutely  nec- 
essary ;  indispensable. 

e  ter'  nal,  without  beginning  or 
end;  everlasting. 

e'  ther,  supposed  matter  above  the 
air;  the  air  itself . 

e  var§ion,  act  of  avoiding;  pre- 
varication. 

e  ve"  nt/u.  al  ly ,  ultimately;  finally. 

ex  £§!',  go  beyond;  surpass. 

ex  968  ^',  that  which  exceeds  what 
is  usual  or  proper. 

Sx'  e  «u  ted,  carried  into  effect ; 
accomplished. 

Sxxe  unt  (Latin),   they  go  out; 


FIFTH    READER, 


469 


ex  plo'  §ion§  (zliunz),  burstings 
with  loud  noise. 

ex  port"  ed,  sent  out  of  the  coun- 
try. 

ex  trSm'i  ty,  the  farthest  point. 

S^c  ul  ta'tion  (egz  ult),joy  aver 
success;  triumph. 

F 

fa'  bl^,  a  fictitious  story  intended 

to  teach  some  useful  lesson. 
fab'ri-e,  a  manufactured  article, 

as  cloth. 
fa^n,  glad. 

fam^,  reputation;  celebrity. 
far^d,   was  supplied  with  bodily 

comforts. 

far^  welVj  good-by;  adieu. 
fa  t'igt^d'  (tegd),  wearied. 
far^n,  a  young  deer. 
fer  m6nt'  ed,  having  undergone 

the  process  of  fermentation. 
f£s'  ti  val,  religious  anniversary; 


f§s  toong',  garlands  or  wreaths 
hanging  in  depending  curves. 

fSt'  ter§,  binds. 

fl^,  an  exclamation  denoting  dis- 
like or  blame. 

f\end§,  blood-thirsty  foes. 

flf ^,  musical  instrument. 

f  ir^'  16-el^:,  old-fashioned  musket. 

flt'ful  ly,  irregularly. 

flag'  ging,  hanging  loosely. 

fla  mln'go,  a  wading  bird  of  a 
bright  red  color. 

flat'  ter§,  praises  falsely. 

flaunt' ing,   waving;  making  a 


fle^t,  a  number  moving  or  sailing 
together;  a  squadron  of  ships. 

f  lo^,  an  extensive  field  of  ice  float- 
ing in  the  ocean. 

flog,  wJiip;  chastise. 

flo^d'-tld^,  the  rising  tide. 

foiled,  defeated. 

for^  bod'  ing,  inward  conviction, 
as  of  approaching  trouble. 

for^'-eas  \1^  (kas  si),  fore  part 
of  a  ship,  above  or  below  the  deck. 

forsaken,  left  alone;  abandoned. 

for'  ti  tud^,  resolute  endurance. 

found'  er^d,  fitted  with  water, 
and  sunk. 

,  weak;  fragile. 
l^§,  weaknesses. 

f ran  k'ly, /?•<?<%;  openly. 

fri-e'  tion  (shun),  rubbing. 

frdnt'  \er,  border;  extreme  part. 

flin'nel,  a  vessel  sJmped  like  an 
inverted  cone,  for  conveying 
liquids  into  close  vessels. 

fur'  ro^v",  channel;  groove. 

fu  §eV,  musket;  firelock. 

G 

gal'  lant,  splendid;  magnificent. 
gam'bol§,  shippings;  leapings. 
garb,  dress;  clothes. 
gar'  land§,  wreaths  of  flowers. 
gas'tro  nom^,  one  fond  of  good 


'  y,  thin,  like  gauze. 
ge  6m'  e  try,  the  science  of  quan- 
tity and  mensuration. 
gld'  dy,  light-headed;  wild. 
gll\,  the  fourth  part  of  a  pint. 
glm'  let,  an  implement  for  boring. 


470 


FIFTH    READER. 


gla'  9^er  (gla'  s6^r),  great  mass  of 
ice  moving  slowly  down  a  moun- 


glad' i  a' tor§>,  sword-players; 
prize-fighters. 

gleb^,  turf;  soil;  land  belonging 
to  a  parish  church. 

glim'mer  ing,  shining  faintly. 

glimps^,  a  short,  hasty  view. 

gly£'  er  in^,  a  sweetish  liquid  ob- 
tained from  fat. 

te^nat,  a  small,  Hood-sucking  fly. 

gold' finch,  a  singing  bird. 

gorg'  e§,  fills  greedily. 

g6r'£et,  armor  to  defend  the 
throat. 

go'  ry,  covered  with  blood;  bloody. 

got^r'  mand,  greedy  eater;  glut- 
ton. 

gra'cifcjfts  (shiis),  favorable;  con- 
descending; kind. 

graph' i-e  (graf),  clear;  well  de- 
lineated. 

grat'  ed,  furnished  with  a  grate; 
as,  grated  windows. 

grat'  i  fy,  indulge;  please;  humor. 

gros^,  coarse. 

gtil'  1^§,  channels  worn  by  water. 
nas'ti-es,  muscular  exer- 
cises for  the  health. 


hag'  gard,  pale;  thin;  wasted  by 


ha\r'-trlg'  ger,  a  trigger  that 
discharges  a  fire-arm  by  a  very 


halt,  stop,  in  marching  or  travel- 


ham'  let,  n  small  village. 

hand'-eilf^d,  having  the  hqnds 
confined  by  fetters  or  handcuffs. 

har^,  a  small  timid  animal;  a  kind 
of  rabbit. 

harsh' ly,  in  a  harsh  or   rude 
manner. 

ha'zy,  misty;  foggy. 

'  land,  a  high  or  mountain- 
ous cape. 

n^d,  made  better;  in- 
creased. 

h£lm,  the  instrument  by  which  a 


h£r'  aid  ry,  the  art  or  office  of  a 

herald. 

h£r'  on,  a  large  wading  bird. 
her'ringg,  small  fish. 
hil\'  o-e^:,  a  little  hill. 
ho^r'  y,  white  or  whitish. 
h61'  i  dajf  ,  day  of  joy  and  gay- 


'  ly,  plain. 
hom^'spun,  spun  or  woven  at 

home;  coarse;  rude. 
h6v'  el§,  smalt  mean  houses;  open 

sheds. 
hov'  er^d,  remained  inflight  over 

or  about. 
httb'bl^-bub'b%  a   tobacco- 

pipe  so  arranged  that  the  smoke 

passes  through  water. 
hu^§,  colors;  tints. 
httm'drtim,  dull;  stupid. 
httm'  mo-el^,  a  rounded  knoll  or 

hillock. 
hu§r  band  ry,  care  of  domestic 

affairs. 
httsk'y,  rough  in  tone;  hoarse. 


FIFTH    READER, 


471 


I'  dol,  an  image  of  any  thing  which 
is  worshiped. 

il  lu"  mi  na'  ted,  made  bright  by 
light;  illustrated. 

im  pas' si  bl^,  incapable  of  pas- 
sion, or  pain. 

im  pgr'ish  a  bl^,  not  perish- 
able; indestructible. 

Im'pi  §us,  very  profane;  irrev- 
erent. 

im  pOrt'ed,  brought  from  another 
country. 

im  pru' den9^,  rashness;  lack 
of  prudence. 

in  ad'e  quat^,  not  equal  to  the 
purpose;  insufficient. 

in'dex,  that  which  points  out  or 
shows. 

in'  dig  na'  tion,  anger  mingled 
with  contempt. 

In'  di  go,  a  blue  coloring  matter. 

in  dulg^d',  cherished. 

in  fe'  ri  or,  of  less  importance  or 
value. 

in  flam^',  excite  to  an  excessive 
degree. 

in'  flu  £n'  tial  (shal),  having  in- 
fluence; powerful. 

in  fa'  ri  a  ted,  greatly  enraged. 

In'  got,  a  bar  of  metal  cast  in  a 
mold. 

in  i'tials.  (ish'alz),  the  first  letters 
of  words. 

Ini^,  a  public  house;  a  hotel. 

in  nu'  mer  a  bl^,  more  than  can 
be  numbered. 

in  t6x'i  -ea'tion,  excessive  rapt- 
ure; drunkenness. 


im  part',  give;  grant. 

in  s£n'  si  bly,  not  felt  or  perceived. 

in  s61v'ent,  unable  to  pay  debts. 

in'ter  mit',  to  cease  for  a  time. 

In'ti  mat^,  near;  close. 

in  vadfc^,  enter  with  hostile  inten- 
tions. 

in  val'ta  a  bl^,  precious  beyond 
estimation. 

I  Viet  (I'let),  a  little  island. 


jag'ged,  notched;  uneven;  rough. 

ja^n'ty,  airy;  showy. 

jav^'  lin,  a  kind  of  spear. 

'  fcjus,  anxiously  careful;  sus- 
picious. 

,  scoffed;  mocked. 

jib,  foremost  sail  of  a  ship. 

joists,  small  timbers. 

ju  di'ci^us  (dish' us),  prudent; 
wise. 

jump'er,  a  fur  under-jacket. 

K 

kin'dred,  relations;  kinsmen. 
kili^,  a  pile  of  brick  constructed  for 

burning. 
king'- bolt,  a  bolt  which  connects 

the  forward  axle  of  a  vehicle  to 

the  other  parts. 
^nl^^t'  hdbd,  the  character  or 

dignity  of  a  knight. 


lab'y  rlnth,  place  full  of  wind- 
ings. 

la'd^n,  loaded. 
lag§,  moves  slowly;  delays. 


472 


FIFTH    READER. 


lard'er,  room   where  provisions 
are  kept. 

lat'  tl9^,  a  net-work  of  wood  or 
iron. 

laurel,  an  evergreen  shrub. 

le^,  meadow  or  sward  land. 

le^ds/man,  one  who  heaves  the 
lead. 

'  ^n,  change  for  tJie  better. 
'  er,  a  book  containing  a  sum- 
mary of  accounts. 

le'gion  (le'jun),  a  military  force. 

II' a  bll'i  tl^§,  financial  obliga- 
tions. 

lib' era' ted,  released;  set  free. 

l\^u  t£n'  ant,  a  military  officer. 

Hst'lesi^,  indifferent;  inattentive. 

lit'  tep,  a  light  bed  on  which  a  per- 
son may  be  carried. 

lifer  al  ly,  strictly  according  to 
the  letter. 

llt'erary,  versed  in  literature; 
pertaining  to  literature. 

\\&?  ma,    an   animal   of    South 
America. 

lo^th,  unwilling. 

lo^th^d,  detested;  hated. 

lo'  -eal,  limited  to  a  place. 

lo'-eust,  an  insect  similar  to  the 
grasshopper. 

161V  ing,  reclining  ;  leaning. 

lul\,  quiet,  after  storm  or  confu- 


1  us' ter,  brightness;  splendor. 

lyp^,  a  stringed,   musical  instru- 
ment. 

M 

mag'  nat^s,  persons  of  rank  or 
distinction. 


ma  gue^'  (ma  gwa'),  the  Mex- 
ican aloe. 

ma  h6g'  a  ny,  a  tropical  tree 
wJwse  wood  is  highly  valued  for 
cabinet  purposes. 

,  crippled;  disabled. 
,  Indian  corn. 

ma  jeVti-e  al  ly,  with  a  digni- 
fied appearance. 

mar  let,  a  wooden  hammer. 

ma  n^u'  ver,  dexterous  move- 
ment. 

man'  grov^,  a  tree  of  the  East 
and  West  Indies. 

man'  tl^,  a  loose  over-garment. 

mar,  injure  or  deface. 

mas'  ti-e,  a  gum  from  the  mastic 
tree. 

ma  tur^d',  perfected;  completed. 

meVger,  scanty;  defective. 

me  le"  V  (ma  IS'),  «  confused  hand- 
to-hand  conflict. 

m£sh/e§,  spaces  inclosed  between 
threads  of  a  fabric. 

meVsen  ger,  one  who  bears  a 


(mud),  shut  up;  con- 
fined. 

mid'  ship  man,  a  naval  cadet 
or  young  officer. 

meth'od,  mode  of  action. 

mln'i  a  tur^,  small;  on  a  small 
scale. 

mln'strel,  singer;  musician. 

mint,  place  where  money  is  coined. 

mir'  POP,  looking-glass. 

m6b,  a  riotous  crowd. 

mo-e^^d  (mokt),  tantalized;  de- 
rided. 


FIFTH    READER, 


473 


manner. 
mold'er  ing,    wasting    away; 

crumbling. 
monk'  ^y-^rgnch,  a  wrench 

having  a  movable  jaw. 
mo  n6t/  o  nfcjtis,  unvaried. 
mo  ras!§'  soft,  wet  ground;  marsh. 
mow§  (mou§),  masses  of  hay  or 

grain  stowed  in  a  barn. 
miil'ti  tu'di  n^us,  having  the 

appearance  of  a  multitude. 
mttm'bl^d,  uttered   in   a   low 

tone. 
mu  §r  cian  (zish'an),  one  skilled 

in  music. 

mtts'  ter,  summon  up;  command. 
mys  te'  ri  §us,  difficult  to  un- 
derstand. 

N 

nafc^^t  (nawt),  nothing. 
na'vy,  a  fleet  of  war  ships. 
nes'^1^,  lie  close;  move  restlessly. 
no'ta  ry,  an  officer  who  attests 

writings. 

n^tir'  ish^d,  supported  with  food. 
n6z'  zl^,  nose,  or  projecting  part. 

O 

6b'  li  ga'tion,  the  state  of  being 

indebted  for  acts  of  kindness. 
6b'  sta  -el^,  that  which  hinders. 
o'-elq.er,  kind  of  clay,   used  for 

painting. 
ob  tr\id"  ed,  thrust  upon,  against 

the  wiU. 

o' dor,  perfume;  smett. 
op  prSs^'lv^,   unjustly  severe; 

burdensome. 


orb^d,  circular;  round. 
6'  ri  ent,  eastern. 
o'ri  ol^,  bird  of  tJie  thrush  family. 
6rr  to  Ian,  a  small  European  bird, 
which  is  esteemed  delicious  food. 
6t/to  man§,  stuffed  seats. 
6'  ver-task^d',  over-worked. 


pang§,  agonies. 
par'l^y,  discussion. 
pe^r^d,  looked  anxiously. 
per  i  -can,  a  large  water-fowl. 
'  al  ty,  punishment. 

d,  drew  with  a  pencil. 
p£nx  i  ten  9^,  sorrow  for  wrong 

done. 

per  ehan9^',  perhaps. 
per'  ti  nent,  appropriate. 
pSt'ty,  small;  trifling. 
pll^g,  large  timbers  driven  into  tJie 

ground. 

pll'ladf^,  plunder. 
pin'  ing,  longing. 
pi'  rat^s,  sea  robbers. 
pla?'  id,  calm;  quiet. 
pla^t'  ed,  folded. 
plant' ^ln,  a  tropical  tree  and  its 

fruit. 

,  went  regularly  to  and  fro. 

,  perseverance. 
plu'  mag^,  feathers. 
p6mp,  showy  parade. 
p6n'  der  fcjiis,  weighty. 
por'ing,  carefully  reading;  study- 


tal,  gate  or  entrance. 
p6r'  ti  -eo^§,  piazzas. 
,  location. 


474 


FIFTH    READER. 


pretext'  (or  pre'text),  pretense; 
excuse. 

pr6ph'et,  one  who  foretells. 

pro  trud'ing,  being  thrust  out. 

prov'  erb,  adage;  maxim. 

pr6v'  in  £e§,  divisions  of  a  coun- 
try. 

pub'  li  -ean,  ancient  tax-gatherer. 

pulp,  soft  mass. 

pur  suits',  occupations. 

Q 

quaf  %,  drink. 

quar'ry,  cavern  or  pit  where 
stones  are  cut  from  the  earth. 

quar'  ter-d&el^,  the  after-deck 
of  a  vessel. 

qu£st,  search. 

iln^  (or  qm  nine'),  a  sub- 
stance obtained  from  the  cinchona 
tree. 


ra'di  us,  half  the  diameter  of  a 

circle. 

ram'  part,  bulwark;  defense. 
rav'  a  ge§,  devastations;  wastes. 
re^lm,  province;  domain. 
re  buk^',  reproof. 
rS-el$:'les^,  careless. 
re  fin^d',  polished;  polite. 
re  form',  return  to  good  habits. 
re' gal,  royal. 
r£g'  i  ment'  al§,  uniform  of  a 

regiment;  military  outfit. 
rgn'de^  vo^^  (de  voo),  place 

appointed  for  meeting. 
re  past',  meal;  victuals. 
re  pdt^',  reputation. 


re§'  er  v6ir§y  (vw6rz),  basins  or 
places  where  water  is  collected 
and  kept  for  use. 

re  sot^r^',  resort;  dependence. 

re  tdrt'  ed,  replied  sharply. 

re  veng^,  return  of  injury. 

rl$.ym^§,  verses;  poetry. 

rib'  bing,  furnishing  with  ribs; 
giving  the  appearance  of  ribs. 

rl£'  id,  stiff;  unyielding. 

rig'  or,  severity. 

rl'ot,  uproar;  tumult. 

rl'val§,  equals  or  excels. 

rogts^g,  knaves;  dishonest  per- 
sons. 

ru'  mor§,  flying  stories. 

ru'ral,  country;  rustic. 

rus'  set,  of  a  reddish  brown  color. 

S 

sa'  ber,  a  short  sword. 

sal'  ly,  leap  or  rush  out;  go  out. 

san-e'ti  ty,  purity;  holiness. 

san^,  of  sound  mind. 

s-eaf  fold,  a  staging  for  workmen, 
or  for  tJie  execution  of  a  crim- 
inal. 

s-ealp,  deprive  of  the  skin  of  the 
top  of  the  head. 

s-earnp,  a  knavisJi  fellow;  a  rogue. 

s-eor'pi  on§,  small  reptiles  that 
have  a  sting. 

s-eouts,  those  sent  out  to  discover; 


s-eru'  tiny,  close  search. 
s^yth^§,  instruments  for  mowing 

grass. 

se  -eret^',  conceal;  hide. 
sSn'try,  a  soldier  on  guard. 


FIFTH    READER. 


478 


se  r£n'  i  ty,  state  of  being  calm  or 
peaceful. 

shad'  o^^d,  faintly  represented; 
shaded. 

shirked,  sought  to  avoid  duty. 

shoals;,  shallow  places;  sand  bars. 

shrSds.,  small  pieces. 

shroud,  dress  of  a  corpse;  wind- 
ing-sheet. 

sl-eV  1^,  reaping-hook. 

singed,  slightly  burned. 

sklf  £,  a  small  boat. 

l  ing,  crying;  wJiining. 
r  sti9^,  the  point  in  the  ecliptic 
where  the  sun  is  farthest  from  the 


' her,  dark;  gloomy. 

sov'er  ^ifcjn,  supreme  ruler. 

spa'  £ik?us  (shus),  large  in  extent; 
roomy. 

sp&e'ta  -el^,  sight. 

splr^,  a  steeple. 

spit'  ted,  put  on  an  iron  prong  to 
be  roasted. 

spurn,  to  reject  with  disdain. 

stag'nant,  motionless;  dull. 

stanchion  (shun),  prop  or  sup- 
port. 

stark,  stiff;  rigid. 

ste^r'ag^,  act  of  steering. 

stlm'u  lat^,  animate;  excite. 

sty,  a  pen  for  swine. 

su-e'-eor,  help. 

sur'ly,  cross;  crabbed. 

sur  rSn'der^d,  yielded;  gave 
up. 

surviving,  living;  outliving. 

sus  pl'cion  (pish'un),  mistrust; 
doubt. 


,  a  rustic ;  a  country  gal- 
lant. 

s\varth'y,  of  a  dark  color,  as,  a 
swarthy  complexion. 

sw-ay^,  command;  influence. 

s^7Vroon,  faint ;  a  fainting  fit. 

symp'tom§,  signs  or  indications. 


ta-e^:,  change  course. 
tarong,  claws  of  a  bird  of  prey. 
ta"  pir§,  tropical  animals. 
tap' pan,  a  tropical  tree. 
te^n§,  years  between  twelve  and 

twenty. 
tel'e  gram,  a  message  sent  by 

telegraph. 

tSr'ra  pln§,  large  turtles. 
t\er§,  rows,  one  above  another. 
tit'tl^,  a  very  small  part. 
t6dxdl^d,  walked  with  short  steps. 
to'  ga§,  loose  outer  garments  worn 

by  the  ancient  Romans. 
tol\§,  rings  with  slow  strokes. 
t6m/a  ha^k,  an  Indian   war 

hatchet. 
tor  na'  do,  violent  storm  of  wind; 

hurricane. 

tdfter  ing,  shaking. 
to^v^d,  drawn  through  the  water 

by  a  rope. 
traV  tor,  one    that   betrays    his 

country. 
tran^,  state  of  insensibility ;  cat- 


tran'quil  (trank'  wil),  peaceful; 

quiet. 

tr6s^'e§,  locks  or  ringlets  of  hair. 
trlb'u  ta  ri^§,  branches. 


476 


FIFTH    READER, 


trl'dent,  a  scepter  or  spear,  hav- 
ing  three  prongs. 

trlg'ger,   the  lever  used  to  dis- 
charge a  gun  or  pistol, 
threefold. 

lz),  things  captured  in 
battle. 

trdth,  truth;  veracity. 

tru9^,  temporary  stoppage  of  bat- 
tle or  contest. 

trui^g^d,  traveled  on  foot. 

tun'nl^g,  fishes  of  the  mackerel 
family. 

tusks,  long,  protruding  teeth,  as 
of  the  elephant,  the  wild  boar,  etc. 

twa^n,  two. 

twe^d,  light,  cotton  goods. 

U 

tin'  der  t6n^,  a  low  tone. 
un  ga^n'ly,  awkward,  clumsy. 
u'ni  fdrm'i  ty,  sameness;  con- 


un  par'al  leltydi^having;  no  equal; 
matchless. 

tin' re  ml t'  ting,  without  ceas- 
ing; persevering. 

un  tir'ing,  not  tiring;  patient. 


,  indefinite;  unsettled. 
val^s.,  valleys. 
va  lis^',  a  traveling  satchel. 
van^g,  weather-cocks. 
vat^nt'ed,  boasted. 

,  turned  aside;  changed. 

9^,   infliction  of  pain 
in  return  for  an  injury. 
v£nt/ed,  let  out;  emitted. 


,  sound;  move  to  and  fro. 

vi  9inx  i  ty,  neighborhood. 

vl^t't^^l  (vit'l),  supply  with  pro- 
visions. 

vl^d,  strove;  attempted  to  equal  or 
surpass. 

vll'  la,  a  country  residence. 

vlv'id,  bright;  sharp;  active. 

v6r  l^y,  discharge  of  many  fire- 
arms at  once. 

W 

^7VrasV5t/•e6^t,  a  garment  worn 
under  the  coat. 

\van  (won),  pale. 

ward'erg,  keepers;  guards. 

ward"  rob^,  wearing  apparel;  a 
closet  for  clothes. 

\var/rant  (wor'rant),  guarantee; 
maintain. 

wa^ch'-to  w'er§,  towers  for  sen- 
tinels. 

wa'ter-spouts,  whirling  col- 
umns of  water  at  sea. 

wa/ver^d,  moved  to  and  fro; 
fluctuated. 

wax'ing,  increasing;  becoming. 

^7v^e^l,  happiness;  prosperity. 
'  ing,  breathing  hard. 
,  light,  shallow  boats. 

^vIg'  wam§,  Indian  huts. 

whln'ny  ing,  neighing,  as  of  a 
horse. 

wl-el$:'er,  made  of  twigs. 

'  ing,  fascinating;  bewitch- 
ing. 

fT^^,  a 

to  quench  when  on  fire. 
o^,  sorrow;  grief. 


FIFTH    READER. 


477 


wont'ed,  accustomed. 
^7vroo^d,  made  love  to;  courted. 
'worst'ed  (wurst),  defeated. 
•^re^th^d,  twisted;  entwined. 
^Vr<5st'ed,  took  by  force. 
•^r£\ch,  a  vile  kna/ve;  a  miser- 
able person. 


twisting. 


zdph'yr,  a  gentle  breeze;  the  west 


zlg'zag,    having  frequent  short, 
sharp  turns. 


NAMES  OF  PERSONS  AND  PLACES  USED  IN  THIS  BOOK, 
WITH  THEIR  PRONUNCIATION. 


A'  bra  ham 

Be"l\^ 

•€aV«a  sus 

A  dor'  no 

B£n'ja  min 

•CaVdle 

JE,  gae'us 

Ben  Wy'vis 

•Gav^'li  er' 

(e  ge'us) 

Blak^ 

(kav'leaO 

^E'sop 

B61'ler  manis^ 

•Ch,al  de'an 

(e's6p) 

Boni^ 

ChSs'a  pe^k^ 

A  lad'  din 

B6n'sal\ 

Chglmg'ford 

Al  Sx'is 

Boyd 

Chi  ne§  V 

Al  ge'ri  a 

Bran'den  burg 

Christ 

Al'len 

Brandt 

Qim  me'ri  an 

A  16n'  zo 

Brin'dl^ 

•€o  16^n^' 

Am'  a  zon 

Brlt'ong 

•Co  lunn'  bl  a 

A  ris'to  de'mus 

Brdbks 

•€6n'rad 

Ar'  kan  sa^'  (saw') 

Brukl 

-C6pxper  f\eld 

Ar'thur 

Bur  goyn^' 

•€o  ri  can'  eha 

A'  si  a 

Bar'  ton 

•€6r'inth 

(a'shl  a) 

•€r6m'wel\ 

Ast'l^y 

Q^e'  §ar 

•Cus'ter 

At'ti  -ea 

-€amp'bel\ 

•Cuz'-eo 

Aus'  tri  an 

(kam'el) 

(koos'ko) 

BSb'y  Ion 
Bag  a  du'ce 
Ba'ker 


•€&rs' ten 
•Cas'pi  an 
€as  tll'ian 


Dft'cian 
(da'shftn) 


478 


FIFTH    READER. 


DSm'  a  ra'  tus 

G6th'i-e 

Jap'  an  gs.^ 

D£v'on  shlr^ 

Gre^?^ 

Jas'  per 

DI  en'  I  ee§ 

Green'  wich 

J6m'ml^ 

Dol'  go  ru'  ki 

(grln'ij) 

Je  ru'sa  lem 

(dol'  go  rob'  ke) 

Do'  the  boys. 

Ham'  burg 

Ken  tu«V  y 

Dy'aks. 

Hamp'den 

Kort 

Han'  -e6-e^: 

Ker'll^ 

Eb  en  e'  zer 

Hans 

E'den 

Harden 

Lab'  ra  dor' 

E  11'  ja^ 

Ha^§ 

La  Chin^' 

E  llz'abeth 

HaV'l^Y 

(la  sheen') 

Eph  i  al'tes. 

HS-e'la 

La  RI-e'«a 

E  thi  6'  pi  an 

H61'lesp6nt 

La  SalW 

Eu  boe'  a 

HSn'der  son 

Latour'  d'Au  vergne'1 

Eu'gen^  or 

HSn'nepin 

(la  toor'do  varn') 

Eu  gen**' 

Her'-eu  le§ 

L£  norV 

Eu'ry  tus 

HI'  ram 

Le  6n'  i  das 

Ho'  garth 

Lin'-eoV1  (link'  on) 

Fe"n'no 

Ho'reb 

Lo'gan 

Fer'di  nand 

Hu'bert 

Longue'vlll^ 

FeVro 

Hun  ga'rian 

(long'vil) 

Flo'  ri  an 

(hung  ga'rl  an) 

Frank'lin 

Huns'  don 

Ma«d6n'ald 

Fr6n'  te  na-e 

Hy  dar'ng§ 

Ma  lay 

Ma'  li  bran' 

Ga'briel 

I'daho 

(ma'  le  br6n') 

GSn'o  a 

11  li  nois/ 

Mar'  a  thon 

Geoffrey 

(noi§)  or-  (noi) 

Mar'  tin 

Ger'  ma  ny 

In'«a§ 

M-e  Ga'ry 

Gil'  e  ad 

I  o'ni  an§ 

Me  ^Is'ti  as 

GIl^s 

Ireland 

Mem  bre' 

GISn  -eoV 

I§'a  bel 

(m6m  bra') 

Glouces'  ter 

!§'  ra  el  Tte 

MIgh'  i  gan 

(g!6s'ter) 

!§'  ra  fe^l 

Mil'  ton 

G6d'fr^y 

I  van' 

Mis  so^'rl 

Go  me/ra 

Mo'  ha^rk 

(go  ma'ra) 

Ja'  -eob 

M  one  V  ton 

Gor'go 

Ja'H 

Mdnt  ^a^m' 

FIFTH     READER. 


479 


Mon  te  2\i'mas. 

Pasque 

Ri  bourde' 

Mont  gbm'er  y 

(Pask) 

(re  boord') 

Mont'  re  al' 

Pg'leg 

Ri'l^y 

Mor'gan 

Peli'de§ 

Rdd'rigo 

Mor'gan  town' 

Pel'  o  pon  ne'sus 

Roes^h'  en 

M6r'ris  town' 

Pe'lops 

Ro  ma'nofX 

Mdr'ton 

PSn'  ning  ton 

RgV  en 

Man'  son 

Pe  n6b's-eot 

Rag'  by 

(mar7!) 

Per  sSp'o  lis 

St.   An'  drew 

Mus^ 

Per\i' 

(an'dru) 

My  9^e'nse 

PS'ter  sen 

St.  El'  mo 

Pha'ra  olj. 

St.   Gfeorgfe 

NSg  ro  pont' 

Phil'  a  deT  phi  a 

St.   LaVren9^ 

New  Or'le  an§ 

Pho'9i  an§ 

St.   Swlth'in 

Ni-e^.'o  las 

Phoe'bus 

San  Salvador' 

Ni-el^'  1^  by 

Pho3  nl'9ian  (nlsh'an) 

Sara  to'ga 

Nl'ger 

Pi  erre' 

Sar'dis 

Ni'fia 

(pe  ar') 

Sa  van'  nal% 

(neen'ya) 

PIn'na  -ely  BSrg 

Se6t'tish 

Nors^ 

Pip'  chin 

Se^'ton 

Nor'  wa$( 

Pm'ta 

Ser  lim 

Nor  we'gi  an 

Pin'  zon 

SSn'e-ea 

piat\^ 

Shan'  non 

O  ber  hau'sen 

Pla  tae'a 

She  v\ra'  ng^ 

CE'ta 

Plu'to 

Smlk^ 

OV'sen 

POr'tug^gg^ 

S6n'tag 

O'man 

Po  to'  ma-e 

Spa^n 

On'onda'ga 

Pr6v'i  den9^ 

Span'iardg 

Or'phe  as 

Prus'sian 

(span'  yard§) 

O  si'  ris 

(prash'an  or  pr\i'shan) 

Span'ish 

Ow'en 

Spar'ta 

Que  b&e' 

SpS-eV1^ 

Pa  9ir  i« 

Spring'  fi,51d 

Pai'  las 

Ra'chel 

Sque^rg 

Pa  ra  gua^' 

Ra'mals}. 

Str6s'  ser 

Pa  ra  na' 

Ra^mi 

Su'ga 

Par'  ma 

R^Il'ly 

Su'si 

48O 


FIFTH    READER. 


Stts'sex 
S wi v'  el  er 

TSm'pe 
Ten'  nes  se^' 
Thames.  (t£mz) 
The' bang 
ThSs'pi  an§ 
Thes  sa'li  an§ 
Thds'sa  ly 


Tl^dm'as  ton 


Ti  mor' 
Tit  i  ea'- 


TrSn'ton 
Tu'nis 

Uber'to 
Un'der  \vdbd 
Uxru 


Val  pa 


Vir  gln'i  us 

Wads'  \v6r  th 
Wal'ter 
West  Point' 


W-Il'son 


Yang'  tse   K'i  Sng 


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